


Faith

by Substance



Series: Instrument of Surrender [6]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, Femslash, Heavy Angst, Romance, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 17:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 52,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18953068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Substance/pseuds/Substance
Summary: Yuri/Femslash - Ashe x Quinn / Ashe x Sejuani - Sequel to "Gemini" - Ashe and Volibear journey across Valoran to free Sejuani's soul from Kalista. However, they must rely on a disgraced Quinn, whose motivations aren't entirely clear. Sejuani's rescue may unite the Freljord, but Ashe can't trust anyone, least of all herself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights to 'League of Legends'. This is written solely for entertainment, not profit. Please don't sue me, Rito.
> 
> Rated MA for sex, a bit of violence and colourful language. This isn't as rough as my previous fic, Gemini, but some warnings do apply.
> 
> Some of Ashe's fantasies are non-consensual. They blur gender and feature het coupling. However, this is still very much a femslash/yuri fic. These episodes are brisk, and a reflection of Ashe's angst rather than het desire, but I appreciate not every yuri aficionado will take kindly to them. Also, there's a section about childbirth and giving up the newborn for adoption. It doesn't go into blow-by-blow detail, but I feel it's enough to trigger memories if someone's been through a comparable experience.
> 
> This story is the sixth in a series, following Infinity, Dreams, Vengeance, Prey and Gemini (also on this site). I've tried to make each story coherent on its own but reading them in sequence is recommended. There are now approximately 71k words preceding this fic, so it's effectively the sequel to a complete novel. I've tried to summarise and fill in as best I can, but I can do only so much without excessive disruption.
> 
> For those who have been following this little saga, we're back to Ashe's POV. Like Prey, this entry focuses on Ashe x Quinn more than Ashe x Sejuani.

Is this how it ends?

I felt so passionate, so alive, that I was ready to cross the darkest ocean. I'd liberate Sejuani's soul from Kalista.

But I fell at the first ditch.

* * *

The Freljord is impoverished and war-torn. Survival's our primary concern. Trade is poor. There are treasures deep within our mines but we can't retrieve them while defences crumble and farms burn.

Our prospective wealth is an asset when brokering long term. If we're to hire a ship, we need to pay _now_. The journey to the Shadow Isles is expensive, high risk and low reward. Relics of dubious worth will hardly tempt mercenaries. Giving up our priceless artefacts for a song would shame our ancestors and undo all my efforts to reclaim our heritage.

Restoring Sejuani's a huge risk. She may cast aside our love and renew her assault. Our dim future may have to rise from the ashes of our glorious past.

Life is just one betrayal after another.

* * *

Two weeks ago, Sejuani and I had betrayed our followers with a secret rendezvous. It nearly killed us both.

Lost in the wilds, I became a predator. I forced Sejuani's beliefs upon her weakened form. Afterwards, I discovered she'd given up her soul to rescue me from Lissandra.

My guilt was nearly fatal. Sejuani saw no crime to forgive.

We parted, as once and maybe future lovers.

* * *

A concerned Volibear had followed Sejuani's trail. I captured him with misdirection, wit and foresight. We needed someone's divine power to brave the Shadow Isles. Luckily, Volibear cared for Sejuani more than he hated me… for now.

Tryndamere wanted Volibear locked up, in case word reached our foes, but I'd already promised otherwise. Conveniently, Volibear chose to settle in a cave, out of sight. Financing our trip was beyond him. He saw no reason to get involved when he could exercise in peace.

* * *

I don't know what drove me to Volibear's cave. I shouldn't seek his approval like a child, and Sejuani's her own woman.

Yet here I am, watching him train. He dances with a boxer's agility. His punches blur like the wings of an insect. Every jab is a little hurricane.

He regards me with animal indifference. If his words are any indication, he wears his heart openly, but Ursine faces remain a mystery to me.

Volibear says, 'You're not wearing your perfume. I hope you've not forsworn it for my benefit.'

'Simple neglect, I'm afraid. You'll have to suffer my natural stench.'

'All I can smell is alcohol. I presume you're here to whine about your impotence, rather than discuss our journey.'

'Drinking helps me get things done.' Until I have regular sex, or the freedom to take long walks through ancient ruins, I need alcohol and archery to soothe my nerves. Today, I woke up with an aching shoulder, which left one option.

'Yet you've achieved nothing.'

'And you have?'

'I'm preparing for battle.' He warms down by tilting his neck and rolling his joints. 'Far more productive than sullying my body and spirit.'

I sit in his cave, out of the wind. 'Raise the money quicker and I'll gladly take your criticism. Until then, I'd appreciate your patience.'

'How can I be patient while my cub suffers?' He turns his back on me. 'You were always a decadent fool but I never considered you _weak_. Sejuani deserves better.'

He's told me that several times. If I concur then I'm a self-pitying fool who should up her game. If I disagree then I'm a deluded fool, expecting others to believe her lies. No doubt, Volibear is the biggest fool in Valoran for trusting me.

There's a novel charm to his candour. It's a welcome change from bootlicking. Even Tryndamere's mockery feels like indulgence, not rebellion, a pat on the head for a dangerous little sister he was obliged to fuck against his will.

I'm getting foul-mouthed in my old age. Actually, no, I've always been foul-mouthed. I just had a phase when I pretended otherwise.

I say, 'There's only one choice. I'll have to gather artefacts and hope they're worth passage to the Shadow Isles.'

'If there's only one choice then make it.'

'I promised my tribe I'd restore their glory, their history, not sell it for my personal relations.'

'You think Sejuani has no meaning apart from you?' The ground shakes from his bellow. He's worked up and limber. I've no traps or magic items ready. Should he attack, I'm defenceless.

'To my people, no, she doesn't. I'm crossing thousands for her sake. Do you think I should do that lightly? She wouldn't. She never stops thinking of her people, even when she's with me.'

'That responsibility weighs upon us all. I'm supposed to be a moral compass for my sleuth, yet I betrayed them because I stupidly thought you were capable of the same!' He rakes a paw across his face. 'I have damned myself and you fret over breaking a nail.'

'Do you know how much blood is on my hands?' I climb to my feet. 'If you knew half of what I'd done, you'd…'

_Ashe…_

I know that voice. 'Avarosa?' My great-mother listens but rarely talks. While I focus, I hear the question in Volibear's tone, but not his words.

_Your past should be a source of strength, not a burden. Everyone can find redemption, child._

Am I hallucinating? A Demacian eagle crosses the sky. A mistake has returned to haunt me.

'Volibear, we've got company!' I conjure my hawk spirit, and my senses project. Scrambling through the drifts in awkward flight is a familiar human, small, skittish and hunched over so deep, they could be running on all-fours. While inconvenient for me, this could be our lucky break. 'South-west, three-hundred yards, I want her _alive_!'

Clouds of snow trail Volibear's charge. He's used to fulfilling orders, even if I'm giving them. The eagle screeches a warning and plunges to guard his companion but Volibear is too quick. By the time I've caught up, he's tackled his prey.

In one paw, he holds the eagle named Valor. The bird is awe-inspiring, with prodigious wings and indigo plumage. During our futile negotiations with Prince Jarvan, Valor had roamed freely, sparing us the pleasure of his excitable company. Volibear keeps him at arm's length, while sitting astride a young woman, recently dragged over the threshold of adulthood.

As I draw near, her golden eyes crease in adoration. 'Ashe! Um…' She glances at Volibear. 'Your Majesty?' She chews on her lip while assessing protocol. 'I know I shouldn't be here but… er… this isn't what it looks like, seriously.'

Volibear says, 'Do you know this girl?'

Yes, I know Quinn. I know her in every sense of the word.

Sejuani's aware that I slept with Quinn but, for now, Sejuani's only demand is that I don't have children. Affairs are fine, supposedly, but Volibear doesn't know that. When I persuaded him to join my quest, I swore that he could take my life, should I prove unfaithful. I craft my response. 'Quinn is a Demacian scout, celebrated hero, and about the only person from that country who can hold a normal conversation.'

My heart breaks for Quinn. Our entanglement was possibly the most real event of her short life. She doesn't appreciate how love can be written out of history, like anything else. I'm sorry, Quinn, but I can't risk Volibear's wrath.

His jaws overshadow her tiny skull. 'Hmm… so Jarvan couldn't disown her?'

'No…' For once, Volibear and I think as one. 'And even if he were the kind of man to sell out a loyal servant, he has an image to uphold.'

'Would he pay for her safe return?'

Quinn squirms away from Volibear. She says, 'Uh… Ashe? What's going on?'

I remain strong. 'Shouldn't I be asking that question? You're the one trespassing.'

'It's not like that!' says Quinn. 'I… I know I betrayed you but…'

Volibear's fur crackles. 'A Demacian wronged your tribe, Ashe? Why have you not leveraged this?'

I offer the truth. 'Because I'm also at fault, however much Quinn might protest.'

When I don't elaborate, Volibear says ominously, 'That is a needless and unhelpful admission, especially from a renowned strategist.'

'I'm as idiotic as anyone, Volibear. Quinn got me drunk while I was trying to get information out of her. She reported my babbling to Jarvan. You shouldn't believe all of Sejuani's praise.'

Quinn gasps. 'You're Volibear?' She must have assumed he was a lone defector, not second in command of my opposition.

He says, 'Do the spy's job for her, why not? Yes, I'm Volibear, chosen of the storm, and your flapping friend is trying my patience.'

'I'm sorry, Mr. Bear. Valor doesn't like being held.'

'It's _Voli_ bear!' he roars. 'If my name were Caedman, would you say "Mr. Man"?'

I suppress a chuckle at Volibear's outburst and Quinn's lack of grace. After all she's been through, Quinn's retained her ingenuous charm, as dangerous a lure as anything in this world. She begins apologising at length. Before Quinn's hasty contrition angers Volibear further, I say, 'What _are_ you doing here?'

She catches my gaze and looks away. 'Um… it's kind of personal.'

I'd assumed from our last exchange that Quinn was on course to get over me, though she may be playing up her infatuation to mislead us. I can't appraise her without help, and Volibear isn't helping. When I don't press the subject, he says, 'This is maddening. Ashe, I don't expect a fine rendering of your political web. We're still at war. Just answer me this. Does her obfuscation mean something to you?'

'Maybe.'

'This is like eating a pinecone. Will it prevent us from ransoming her?'

'No.' I gather my resolve. 'Quinn, I'm sure there's a good reason for your presence but we have a situation, and your capture might free a noble soul from endless torment.'

She changes instantly from girl to fierce knight. I thought she'd like that. 'If decent lives are at stake, I'll come willingly.'

Volibear relaxes, having recognised something he can respect. He releases both prisoners.

Valor behaves, though he hovers close enough to create a draft. Quinn seems like she's fighting the urge to hug me. This isn't good. I have to keep my distance. 'Your cell may be less comfortable than our guest wing.'

'At least I'll match the décor.' She picks at her travel-stained outfit. 'I guess a bath's out of the question.'

Volibear says, 'I wouldn't object. Your noses may not function but I'm choking. You'll need a crowbar to get her out of that armour.'

Quinn look mortified. I want to hold her close and whisper gentle assurance, that I still find her attractive. What was Volibear thinking? For all our differences, I considered him one of nature's gentlemen. Just as I begin to voice my disappointment, I sense danger.

Volibear does nothing lightly. He suspects our relationship and his observation was bait. I force tepid words through my clenched anxiety. 'We've all spent time in the field. I'll have Braum arrange a tub and some fresh clothes.'

'Thank you,' says Quinn. She wants more but I can't be so much as kind.

We head back in fraught silence. Only Valor seems comfortable. There's a wordless eloquence to his motion. I'm beginning to see how Quinn "talks" with him. Perhaps her loneliness carries like a plague.


	2. Chapter 2

The logistics of our journey to Demacia prove simple. Volibear can load enough provisions to feed a village. We've allowed him access to the castle, under the supervision of Braum and Gragas. I pray their combined mass doesn't sink our foundations.

To carry Sejuani's soul back from the Shadow Isles, Anivia's gifted us one of her eggs. Apparently it should operate as a vessel, provided the subject enters of their own free will.

Tryndamere's energetic and experienced enough to manage crises while I'm abroad. Anivia's good with details. They should work well together.

So far, so good. Unfortunately, my plans are built on thin ice.

* * *

Tryndamere questions my wisdom as we descend into the gloom. 'I get you want to play nice, but Quinn sold you out. Why not just eat Valor, chain Quinn to Volibear, then peel strips off her until Jarvan caves?'

'We'll need her influence to safeguard us. Otherwise, we'll disappear, mid-voyage.'

'What influence do you think she has? Do you buy Sejuani's mad theory that Jarvan's grooming her? Queen Quinn, just say it out loud. _Queen Quinn_.'

'A name can be changed. Officially, they could use "Catherine" to go with Jarvan's mother.'

'That's wrong enough to be true. Demacians are into family... but women fucking women? Shucking oysters? Those are a bridge too far.'

'What does "shucking oysters"…? Ugh, forget it.' I hope it doesn't involve knives. That's too close to home. 'Even if Quinn's not a candidate for the throne, she's Jarvan's token peasant and a decorated war hero. People would listen to her.'

'She can barely speak.' Our footsteps echo as the dungeon walls grow damp. 'I'll just assume we need Quinn because _you_ need Quinn. Do you need Valor? We don't know what he's capable of.'

'Quinn's our only source of knowledge regarding Valor. Until we know otherwise, we should treat him as her weapon. He may be more, but we can't waste time on what we can't foresee.'

'That eagle's got shifty eyes. There's every chance he'll act on his own.' Tryndamere winks. 'You know what? I'll clip his wings. You claim ignorance. Use him as a hostage.'

'We can't use them against each other. They might as well be twins. I can't think of a quicker path to betrayal.'

'They can talk without words. I think betrayal's guaranteed whether you're kind or not.'

As we near the foot of the stairwell, I hesitate. 'You really don't think I have a prayer, do you?'

'Not if you don't press your advantage.'

'What advantage?'

'You know what I mean. You're the one thing Demacia can't offer. Let her think she has a chance to keep you.'

My breath catches. Romantic flight is an alluring fantasy, the promise of love, peace and liberty for those who can endure the guilt. Yet, escape is impossible. Every morning you wake up in your new life, your new shadow lengthens.

I say, 'Quinn isn't stupid. She knows we can't be together.' The thought of lowering my guard, and exposing myself to her passion, fills me with dread. I may be the one to lose control.

'What she knows and what she feels are two different things. If you're serious about rescuing Sej, you may have to draw blood.'

'I'm sick of compromise and sacrifice.' With an actress's turn, I march to the door. 'From this day forth, we…'

My sinews bulge as I heave across two massive bars.

'Just…'

A mighty push.

' _Win_.'

I gaze triumphantly into the corridor. The theatre's over.

Tryndamere looks askance, like I've just sunk an entire keg of mead in front of him. 'Okay, sounds like a plan. Are we good?'

'Yes,' I lie. 'Now mind what you say. Her ears are better than ours.'

* * *

We descend. There's no more debate. All I can hear is the clanging of Tryndamere's armour. Because of Quinn's value, we had to use the deepest oubliette in our castle, the same place I kissed Sejuani for the first time. Hopefully, the memories will deter me from drooling over Quinn.

I pound on the hatch. 'Quinn? It's Ashe. Are you decent?'

I hear scuffling, like a puppy's tail sweeping the floor. 'Yes!'

Tryndamere smirks. 'Disappointed?'

'Not as much as she'll be.'

The cell opens.

We've made her comfortable with torches, blankets and extra furniture but our stone walls remain oppressive. You can still see the chains. Amidst all the trappings of icy power, stands one little farm girl, eager to please.

Quinn glows with pastoral charm, or maybe her skin's a little raw from exposure to the cold. She's loosely dressed in a clean tunic and britches from our stores. I can see the bathtub we provided, yet her locks remain a filthy purple nest. I know she's coy regarding her natural hair colour but I hope she's washed from the neck down. Others may be less indulgent of her coarse edges. Not everyone will be drawn close enough to know her…

I yelp as Tryndamere knuckles my ribcage. Feeling embarrassed and helpless, I watch as he takes the lead. 'I'm Tryndamere, king of these parts.' He offers a hairy hand, like a yeti's paw.

She gingerly takes it. I _feel_ the crunch when he squeezes. 'I… I'm Quinn, a scout for the kingdom of Demacia.' Her back arches in retreat. She totters like a flagpole in a storm.

Tryndamere steadies Quinn by grabbing her shoulder, which only makes her panic worse. 'The Freljord welcomes you, though I guess my formidable queen has already given you the grand tour. She prefers the kind of women you can't bring home.'

Quinn blinks with confusion. 'Oh… so you're…?'

'Fine with it? Hah! When I'm not cleaning up her mess.' I've imposed on him a lot, in peace and war. He gets a loving roll of the eyes, but I'll spare him a comeback. 'We don't share spit or blood, only this country, but Ashe is all the family I've got left, and I'll break your legs if you break her heart.'

I step in before Quinn runs away, leaving a dismembered arm in Tryndamere's grasp. 'Thank you, but I can fight my own battles, dear husband.'

'Ah, this ain't fighting. I'm showing I care.' He grins at her like a wolf. 'See? Quinn gets it.'

Frantically, she nods. I shoo him away. 'Please, one Volibear's bad enough.' My poise restored, I say to Quinn, 'Tryndamere knows everything. We can talk openly.'

She covers her torso. 'He…? No, that's fair. I tattled first.'

'You did.' I shuffle closer. 'Having said that…' I mouth a warning at Tryndamere then throw my arms wide. 'I'm really happy to see you again.'

Quinn skips, then lunges, wrapping us in a tight embrace. Her tiny, powerful body, hard as a rock, encircles me like a golem's fist. I pat her back and lightly kiss her temple, sisterly gestures to express boundaries but she won't let go. Desperate, I signal Tryndamere for help. He obliges. 'Are girly shows normal in Demacia? You guys brought the wrong entertainment.'

His vulgar comment dislodges Quinn. She casts evil glances in his direction while I recover. Quinn's growing, little by little. Soon, she'll do more than push me off guard. I have to be careful, no more hugs.

I wonder. Is this how Sejuani feels about me, sharp edges within a soft shell? My depths are bare to her, while I feel so blind. I truly miss her. Without her challenging opinions, raw perception and unfailing acceptance, I'm seeing the world through one eye. Despite Sejuani's poorly buried, and sometimes adorable, jealousy, I think she'd grow to like Quinn. I hope so because, in a strange way, Quinn's part of me, the manifestation of my weakness.

Quinn asks, 'You seem distant. Is everything all right?'

I have to stay present. 'We've got issues. I'll come to them. You just…' I smile, genuinely flustered. 'I'm a little overwhelmed.'

She beams. Why do her teeth sparkle like that? Is there something in Demacian lakes? 'Oh, I feel the same. You know, I didn't think I'd get to… hold someone again.'

I hear Quinn's pent-up longing. So her crush remains, and it's mutual enough that I'm feeding it. I have to be responsible. 'I know. It's always a struggle, but you will find others.'

Tryndamere says, 'You're a fine-looking lass. You'll have plenty of rough and tumble if you keep your head up. Ashe did all right with her sour puss.'

Quinn's not assured. 'Um… thanks, I guess.'

We have to move on. 'Quinn, I'm always happy to see you, but you're trespassing on our lands without consent. What are you doing?'

'It's kind of personal.'

I hope she's not here without Jarvan's blessing. It would weaken our hand. 'You've given up the chance to be coy by not revealing yourself.'

'I'm sort of on reconnaissance but I'm really here as… penance, I guess?'

'You're in exile?'

'Exile's too strong a word. I can go back when I feel ready,' Quinn says, 'Though His Majesty will expect an account of my growth.'

Tryndamere says, 'A rite of passage, when a boy journeys through the wilderness to become a man. I didn't realise the Demacians went for such.'

'Only highborn, typically,' says Quinn.

Sejuani's prediction grows likelier. Quinn is undergoing a knight's trial, perhaps even a queen's trial. I say, 'This punishment seems like an honour.'

Tryndamere butts in. 'Duty's an old way to dispense with trouble. You send a rival on a dangerous mission, watch them die then praise their courage. You survived enough plotting, Ashe. Come on.'

I bristle at his contradiction. 'Our corner of the Freljord isn't exactly hostile. Surely, Jarvan would send her to Noxus if your example had _any_ relevance?'

Quinn says meekly, 'Um, you've both got a point. I'm sure His Majesty wouldn't off me quietly but he's really disappointed. I got a massive lecture. He said I was "irresponsible, insolent and immoral" for "brazenly fornicating" while "on display to the world". After he calmed down, he… said he was wrong to leave a child unsupervised, which felt even worse.'

I say, 'You're not a child. You're old enough to kill for him.'

'Ooh, he set me off a treat. I shouted that I was a blooded woman who deserved acknowledgement as one. I must have repeated myself a dozen times while he watched with that jousting expression of his.'

Narrow stare, diagonal brow, pursed lips, endless chin. 'I know it well.'

'It was up all the time when he was in your palace. It was awkward. Even Xin Zhao got a bit weary.'

Tryndamere says, 'Jarvan seemed all right at first, like, unfriendly but relaxed enough. By the close of day two, his eyes were sunk right through to the back of his head. Something was off.'

To me, Jarvan was a brick wall. 'I didn't notice.'

'You had your face full of Quinn, here.'

She may blush. I've no dignity before Tryndamere. 'That I did. Was our company so tiresome?'

Quinn eagerly draws the subject away from our lovemaking. 'I don't think so. He was arguing with Lux. At one point, Shyvana had her by the throat. If it weren't for Garen keeping the peace, we may have seen blood.'

'Is that why Shyvana slept outside in dragon form?' I'd thought it was to keep us out.

'Yes.'

Tryndamere says, 'This is dangerous information. Why are you telling us? If this gets out, you'll weaken Demacia.'

Quinn grows defensive. 'No, you wouldn't… you couldn't use… I'm loyal! I swear I'm loyal!'

His challenge was a mistake. She'll never co-operate as a turncoat. I calm her down. 'Shush, it's okay. Sorry, Quinn, we weren't implying you...'

'No…' Her blinking slows. Quinn wavers between petulance and ferocity. 'There's no betrayal. I fight for the Demacian people and I fight for justice. Why should lovers pay for their secrets while schemers avoid rightful judgement! I'm fed up of it! We hide our bickering and our suffering and… we sweep everything under the rug and…' She runs out of language. 'I don't care if people know Lux oversteps or Shyvana bites or…'

Silence.

Before I can reply, Tryndamere seizes my arm. 'Ashe, a word?'

As I formulate an apology, Quinn says, 'If you have to go then go. Sorry for babbling, Ashe. You've listened enough.'

Quinn's due better. She deserves a pretty wife and a pretty farmstead, rather than this. My response is feeble. 'I wish the circumstances were different.' She looks at me, hopeful as a lark ascending. 'We'll be back soon.'

* * *

Quinn's heightened senses are preternatural, so we creep to the foot of the stairs. Tryndamere and I huddle, my face close to his armpit. He gives off little odour, just rock, salt and rust. According to him, I smell of mushrooms growing on wood.

'What is it?' I whisper.

Tryndamere says, 'I've been thinking. Jarvan wouldn't allow Quinn to sulk within earshot of you if there were questions about her loyalty, so her flapping tongue means one of two things.'

'Only two?'

'Keep it simple. Either she's a grown-up who's baiting you, or she's a kid who's throwing a tantrum. Pick one.'

Sometimes, Tryndamere's cudgel draws blood. 'You're asking me to damn one of us. If Quinn's trustworthy then I'm a cradle snatcher.'

'Pretty much, and you have to accept you fucked a kid and fucked her up. Whether you feel bad's up to you, but whatever you face, you'll be facing it with a damaged little girl who might let you down or stitch you up when you need her most.'

I become very small. 'Do you think I should feel bad?'

'We've both done worse. I'd say that's up to Quinn.'

She'd only make excuses for me. 'What do you think of her?'

'Not impressed. She's like any teenager, can't see past her own beak and sings without any thought of the consequences. At least you know when you're being a prat. If she were one of us, I could knock some sense into her, but she's Demacian. I think she'd cause you more trouble than Sej.'

'You're being unfair. I cause more trouble than both of them.'

'Attagirl. If I had to choose, I'd put a saddle on Sej and ride her all night long. Just looking at Quinn makes me go soft.'

'Yes, you've gone far enough.' I tug on his arm, leading us back. 'Am I really the only person who finds her attractive?'

'Well, I like my women to have tits and arse, normal stuff. Quinn looks like a boy.'

'We're not just…!' I give up. 'You don't think she has pretty eyes and lips?'

'Her eyes are creepy and I don't see lips until they're round my cock.'

'You're such a philistine.'

'Why, for not fucking little girls? Ask in five years-time when she's got some experience and flesh, then I'll judge.'

'You haven't seen her thighs.'

Tryndamere brightens. 'Oh, now you're talking. Remember Jarvan's dragon-whore?'

He knows I do, the bastard. 'Shyvana. She had a name. Quinn even said it.'

'Yeah, the half-dressed slut. You had some competition for once.'

'I'm going to kill you.'

'Tell me something I don't know.' Tryndamere has a faraway smile, as if he's contemplating a beautiful secret.

I'm disturbed enough that I change the subject. 'We've no choice. We have to gamble on Quinn.'

'I get it. You don't have to concede anything. Only promise me that you'll keep what I said in mind.'

'I will.'

* * *

Quinn was running circles in our absence. Her eyebrows are bright with sweat. Even when still, she's restless. I recall myself as a child, learning how to control all those unconscious, hyperactive little movements. A leader can't fidget.

I say, 'Quinn, I need your help.'

'Anything, Ashe!'

Tryndamere scolds her. 'Don't ever say that up front. You'll end up a liar, a villain or dead.'

She glares back. 'Or a Demacian.'

'You're Demacian already, kid, whatever Jarvan asks you to prove.'

Tryndamere's point is a kind one but insensitive. I say, 'We're losing focus. Do you know Kalista?'

'The Spear of Vengeance?' Quinn looks worried. 'Of course, there are temples to her in Demacia.'

Tryndamere and I react in unison. 'Really?'

'To some, she's the purest form of justice. I think Shyvana looks up to her as a female role-model.'

I ask, 'What about Jarvan?'

'He doesn't approve of Kalista. His Majesty says people can't aspire to good without failing once in a while. He… erm… jokes that he's damned for eternity by her standards.'

I don't think he's joking. 'Would Jarvan help us to defy Kalista?'

'Maybe not openly, but you'd have to ask him. What _is_ going on?'

'She has the soul of a woman I love.'

'Oh, the person you mentioned?'

'Yes, and it's my fault.' Quinn stumbles to console me. However, Tryndamere's presence divides us like a sword. All she can offer is, 'I'm so sorry.'

'Thank you but I've wasted enough time on self-hatred. I'm putting things right.' I reach the point of our conversation. 'We don't have any means of reaching the Shadow Isles but your country has an armada.'

'Not a mobile one.' Quinn scratches her head. 'We have big, lumbering warships. You need a scouting vessel. Don't get me wrong. I'll help, for sure, but His Majesty can't send a whole crew to save one person who's not even Demacian.'

'What if the person _was_ Demacian?'

Quinn's eyes bulge. 'A… a Demacian? Your love was a Demacian? But… who?' She looks utterly heartbroken. I recognise her pain. Quinn wants our transnational affair to be special, a chance miracle that she can remember fondly for the rest of her life.

I know because I'm thinking it as well. 'Quinn, I'm sorry, but we're talking about you.'

'Me? What are you planning?' She looks about for reassurance. 'Ashe?'

'You're my prisoner. Jarvan would give anything for your safe return, yes?'

'What? I'm just a nobody. His Majesty looks out for me but if I prove more trouble than I'm worth then…' she trails off.

'Jarvan sent you here, so he's responsible. You're part of his entourage, and your age and upbringing will attract sympathy. There's no way he could abandon you without losing face.' I appeal to my status. 'Believe me, Quinn, I've been leader of this tribe for over ten years. I've made enough mistakes. I know how these things work.'

'Won't he assume we're conspiring after… you know?'

'Is our affair public knowledge in Demacia?

'No.'

'So how could he act on it without causing a scandal?'

Quinn rubs her arm. 'I… I don't know. You're the politician. Like, you're going to drag me to Demacia and His Majesty's going to suspect us anyway, so I might as well play along.'

'I'd rather not force anyone but you've heard what's at stake.'

'Yes. Even if I didn't owe you for my betrayal, I'd…'

'You don't owe me anything.' She's already paid in blood. 'I took your honour, Quinn. We're more than even.'

'It wasn't enough.' Quinn's plain, girlish whimper feels mournful, possessive and _seductive_ , innocence begging to be stolen, over and over…

Tryndamere clears his throat. I catch his gaze in silent thanks and say to Quinn. 'Our time together was precious but we have to move on.'

Quinn watches with open agony, like she's forcing herself to look into the sun. 'Okay,' she says. 'Give me a mission. What's our goal? Who is your love?'

This is it. I'm in free fall. Once I tell Quinn, she may tell Jarvan. He will know something my people don't. With that information, he could force my compliance or expose my treacherous heart.

I can't say this directly. The fear is too much. 'You may be questioning Volibear's presence.'

Quinn's perceptive enough to draw conclusions. 'No! How could…? I thought you were enemies! You asked for our help! Ashe, tell me you're lying!'

Tryndamere steps in. 'Our conflict ain't some lover's tiff. I wouldn't have asked you to spill Demacian blood otherwise. Our whole way of life is an abomination to the Winter's Claw, and they'd wipe us out if they could. Whatever Sej feels ain't enough to keep her marauders off our lands, only enough to keep Ashe chained up in a harem.'

I go blank with rage. 'What the fuck do you know?! She…' My voice breaks, 'Would never do that. She wants an equal, not a slave. I'm the one who…' Shielding my face, I recall everything. I recall Sejuani's tears. I recall as I forced her to the ground with my knife and, 'Hurt her. She saved us all and I… poor Sejuani…'

Tryndamere guides me to sit against a wall. Through my shame, I hear him take over. 'She's been like this a while. The sole reason I don't veto her mission to rescue Sej is that we need Ashe. We _really_ need Ashe.

'Whatever her flaws, that emotional wreck is a genius. Do you know the Winter's Claw had three times our standing army to begin with? Ashe beat them back so hard, she _changed_ them. After centuries of promoting idiots through duels, they threw their lot in with a clever, charismatic outrider. Yeah, Sejuani's a pain. I'd rather she weren't leading our foes, but Runeterra needs a functioning Ashe more than a dead Sejuani. Help us through this and Ashe will, one day, surpass Jericho Swain. She may never be my wife but I'm proud to be her husband.'

Amazed, I look up through my fingers. 'Really? Do you really feel that?'

He laughs. 'Of course! Why else would I put off my vengeance? Why else would I look at your spotty backside and think of the Freljord? Ashe, babe, I told you this at our wedding. You never did listen to me.'

I smile. 'Bring a woman down, why not? I feel remiss enough.'

'Take it as a compliment. I think Sej likes you because you're the only girl more impossible than her.'

'There's truth in that.'

'I bet.'

While we chat, Quinn is unreadable. I'm scared at how quickly she can change from ingénue to operative. I reach out. 'I never wanted this war, Quinn, but Sejuani pushed it on us both. Love isn't enough. I have to prove myself in battle or…' Please let there be something else. Please.

Quinn looks at me like I've grown an extra head. 'She's killing your people. She's killing _you_. How can you love her?'

'Many reasons but what good is reason? If we could change, you and I would have an easier life. We could love men. We could love our kin. I could even love _this_ warthog.'

As if Tryndamere would leave that opening. 'Ooh, if I'm a warthog, I might have a chance with…'

Quinn ignores him. 'Would you change?'

'Would I? Before… yes, without hesitation… but I have too many wonderful memories to change now.'

'Same here.' Those two little words are like a prayer, solemn and thankful. 'Despite everything, she gave up her soul to save yours, right? Would we have met otherwise?'

Tryndamere says, 'No. Things were bad. Volibear and I make a habit of crawling out of the grave but I don't think Ashe has that luxury.'

Quinn says. 'That's all I have to know.' She kneels before me. 'Your Sejuani crossed enemy lines to bring us both to life. A servant of justice can do no less. Demacia's wings are at your disposal.'

Why does Quinn frame everything as an obligation or a contest? For such a little girl, she can be so _male_. And why say "disposal"? That's a horrible choice of word. 'I'm grateful but…' I yelp as Tryndamere crushes my shoulder. 'Sorry. There's no "but". I'm grateful.'

Quinn looks up. 'You needn't worry.' Her eyes flash. 'Danger's my calling.'

* * *

The bustle of our palace is a comfort upon leaving our dungeons. Tryndamere grumbles. 'What a mess.' I nod in agreement. 'I'm guessing she was a virgin? She's hung up on you, _badly_ , and you're still sweet on her. That's not the end of the world but you have to play her like a flute. If you lose your grip, she'll go mad with jealousy and ruin everything. She might even kill Sejuani.'

'Quinn wouldn't. She's…'

'Demacian. Remember, Sejuani's evil by their standards. You have to consider the possibility Quinn will do "what's best" and you'll have to choose between them.'

'I care for them both but I'm in love with Sejuani, not Quinn.'

Tryndamere looks amazed, as if I'd said something outlandish. 'Ah…' His frown softens. 'I forget sometimes. You're not that experienced.'

'What? You said yourself there were rumours. Make up your mind. If I'm as promiscuous as you claim, I'll have the respect I'm due.'

'How many girls were you serious about?'

I ball my fists. 'You know I couldn't have been serious!'

'None before Sejuani?'

'Do you think I don't understand love because all I had was private and fleeting?'

'I don't think you know the long, visible kind.'

'And you do?'

'Maybe not personally, but I grew up _with_ my tribe.' His expression clouds with grief. 'I saw families and relationships evolve. I saw them outlast wandering eyes, tragedies, children… bastard children… while were you tramping through ancient ruins, getting your fingers wet, and scheming your way to power.' Before I can reply, he says, 'No criticism. I respect your balls. You did what you had to. The point is you've never known love as a journey, just a shelter.'

Tryndamere's no priest or scholar but loss teaches wisdom, and few people have lost so much. 'Do you think I'm capable of the long, visible kind?'

'Eh…'

'That's enough. I'll find out for myself.'


	3. Chapter 3

I'm indistinguishable from any vagrant, sat on a cold step. Only now does it sink in. I may never see this land again.

I've been leading it for over ten years. The future cries to be delivered. An impossible quest is a good way to leave the stage, if I must.

I hear a familiar tread. Again, Tryndamere bothers my shadow. Solitude will be scarce while travelling. I'm unsure if I wish to see him. Before I can decide, he says, 'You're in my spot.'

'Excuse me?'

'This is my spot. If I get cabin fever but can't leave the grounds, this is where I come.'

'So _this_ is where you hide? You're going to regret telling me that.'

'Yeah, so I'm enjoying my freedom while it lasts.'

Everything falls to him soon. I'm asking a lot. 'I think there's room for two, provided you keep your thighs together.'

'First time for us both, hey?' He perches his meaty hips on the slab. With all the space he requires, he might as well be crouching. I still find his touch eerily cool. Maybe he locks up his heat for when he carves up his foes. 'I don't want you to go,' he says plainly.

'You know I can't leave Sejuani to her fate.'

'I'm happy to fight in your place. Just say the word and I'll join Volibear and Quinn. It'll be fun, rather than awkward.'

'Would you let another man save your princess?'

'Why do you think I'm trying to spare my queen from an early grave?'

That's almost romantic. A shame I need optimism rather than gallantry. 'Could you not? I'm terrified enough.'

'Not like you'll get any hard realism off a shaman or a Demacian.' Tryndamere sharply turns my jaw to face him. 'Please, you have to let Volibear cross the Shadow Isles alone. I think Anivia's right for once. Your soul will come loose without a mooring.'

I stare him down. 'You know I can't. I have to prove myself. Our country depends on it.'

'You're stubborn, Ashe, but I don't think Volibear and Sej will accept anything short of a trouncing. Even if they come around, your hero's quest won't sway their people and you know it.' I don't yield. Eventually, he sighs and releases me. 'Forget it. You know my thoughts already. So… "princess"… that her pillow name?'

I can't suppress my grin. 'She doesn't object.'

'Aw, think I understand you both a little better.' He ruffles my hood. 'For what it's worth, I like your princess but I'm unconvinced she'll ever be happy. The Winter's Claw mess children up. You'll have to pry their thorns out of her bleeding heart, one by one, 'til there's only scar tissue left. I think she'd rather go down as a warrior than be walking wounded.'

'She kept insisting I was obliged to crush a helpless enemy.' I shudder. 'Poor thing.'

'Literally or…' Tryndamere raises an eyebrow.

'Mind out of the gutter!'

He doesn't laugh. 'No fooling, Ashe. I feel sorry for her. Sounds like she'd rather choose death than accept what she wants.'

'I think we both would.' I trace the scar across my belly. After forcing Sejuani's principles down her throat, I'd almost perished to my guilt.

'You have to keep going for the fallen and the living.'

'I'll… no promises, but I'll try.' Coming from Tryndamere, that simple idea feels profound. I'm glad something other than revenge inspires him. 'But if I don't come back, I'm sorry that I wasn't a better wife. You have needs and I've been selfish, chasing women while you've endured in silence.'

'No worries. I count myself lucky to feel anything at all. Ever since…' Tryndamere gazes like a statue. 'When you've seen every girl who taught you to be a man… every girl who pulled you off, hoisted her skirt… when you've seen them in pieces with their brains and entrails all over the snow like vomit, you kind of lose interest. I still notice women but I'm glad I have an excuse not to lay them. You try to come with all that in your head. I can't.'

'I never realised it was that bad.'

'Of course you didn't. I prefer to get on rather than dwell. These things have a way of sorting themselves out. Even if they don't, I'm alive.'

'You deserve more than just life.' Tryndamere shrugs in response. 'It's funny. My trauma barely touches yours but I can already feel it having an opposite effect. I'm growing… ravenous.'

'What you're going through seems like fun but I guess the hunting's always better on the other side.'

'Let's hope that applies to the Shadow Isles.'

'You sure you don't want me to go?' Tryndamere says eagerly.

'How many times do I have to say "Yes"?'

'A hundred? I don't know. Just come back to me alive, all right? You're the only thing in this messed up world I truly care about.'

I feel awful. Our arrangement is denying a good wife his devotion. I kiss him on the cheek. 'Thank you, but what about our people? Do you feel nothing for them?'

'I don't resent them and I won't abdicate if that's why you're asking. As long as they need a musclebound ogre with a big sword, massive cock and sexy mane, I'm happy to serve. Do you think I'd leave them at Anivia's mercy? Her nagging would achieve more than Sej and Liss combined.'

'You're happy to serve? Are you sure that's enough?'

'It is. I have a decent life and a purpose. Do you know how many people dream of that? I may not have chosen such a role – the beard of an ambitious queen – but it's okay, far better than eating snow and seeking revenge. You turned out all right, Ashe. I think we're both learning to make the best of our marriage.'

The sun is rising. I've tarried enough. 'Are you coming to see me off?'

'Sure, a bit of ceremony will soften the blow.' He stretches. 'Just watch yourself in Demacia. Keep Volibear within arm's reach at all times. If he's got a problem, he'll come at you straight. I can't say the same about Quinn.'

'You really don't like her, do you?'

'Honestly, no. She's got nothing, no tits, no character. She's nothing but a sign of your drinking and frustration.'

What does this world have against Quinn? I can't be the only one who appreciates her. 'Tryndamere, please. I know I'm a hypocrite, and I asked your opinion, but if you have nothing more charitable, I'd appreciate your silence.'

'Okay,' says Tryndamere. 'Then I'll promise you this. If you're right about Quinn, and she comes through, then I'll kiss her feet and apologise to her face.'

'You would have to put on a show. You'll have audiences every day while I'm gone.'

'Ugh, tell me about it.' As we step out of the shade into the dawn, Tryndamere grows contemplative. 'Ashe, I've been thinking.'

I'm still blinking away colours. 'Hmm?'

'I think, in some ways, you planned all of this.'

'What?'

'I think you chose to fall for Sej. Your story's too neat. Wed your enemy, unite the Freljord? I know bait for the skalds when I hear it. Even if you don't succeed, you've got another part, railing against the world for denying your passion.'

'Do you think this is all an act? I'm serious about Sejuani! How much…'

'I know you are but listen. A family choose to bear and love their kids. Would you call their feelings into question because they planned everything?'

'I wish I knew.' The subject is sore enough to quell my fury. 'Motherhood is a foreign country.'

'But you see my point.'

'I guess. Do I seem in control? Every day feels like an uphill struggle to regain it.'

'I think you are but I can see where it ends. You chose to want Sej. Your Demacian lovebird snuck up on you. She's the one person who forced herself into your grand design. You can't place her, and you can't trust her. She's dangerous.'

'Quinn's just… if Quinn's dangerous, then all of humanity's dangerous.'

'Yes!' Tryndamere lights up, as though I've had a breakthrough. 'But again, she's not humanity. She's a Demacian agent. Remember that, always.'

Giving up, I rest my head on Tryndamere's arm. 'Are we truly parting ways, bickering as a couple?'

'Looks like it.'

'I'm glad. I'll miss you, Tryndamere.'

'Same.'


	4. Chapter 4

Our journey to Demacia felt unreal. Outside of the Freljord, life is too easy. Roads cushion your feet. Animals leave you be. The wind is gentle. I sometimes wonder if I am still at home, dreaming of a romantic adventure, free of the stink, horror, boredom and inconvenience of travel.

Is this how Sejuani sees our way of life?

There was no hope of us bonding as a team. Before leaving, I'd taken Quinn aside and insisted we couldn't be familiar near Volibear. To my horror, she wept. We needed her goodwill, so I kept giving her little crumbs of comfort, apologetic smiles, touches on her cloak and sleeves.

Once, I was careless enough to brush her glove. When she looked up, I swallowed a knot in my throat and ran behind a tree, feigning a sudden bout of food poisoning.

Volibear's mood was better, now our mission was underway, but he remained vigilant and uncommunicative. As the climate warmed, he couldn't sweat. Eventually, he collapsed on all-fours. I halted our march and sought the nearest river. My heart ached when Volibear apologised for slowing us down.

I knew better than to tell him it was all right, instead offering that his prowess in battle would make up for any delay.

He gave a strange, knowing laugh, as if he knew the words of a politician when he heard them.

Quinn led us off the main road, through deep woods, noisy with wildlife, until we came to a wall of golden bricks.

* * *

I'm overwhelmed by the saturation of colour. Quinn grimaces. 'Petricite, really tough wood, usually stone-coloured. We have so much to be proud of, but this looks awful, as though we're tax collectors rather than heroes.'

I chuckle. Jarvan III, you're a sly fox. 'I'd assume it's to lure refugees from the Freljord. "Welcome to Demacia, land of plenty, where the streets are paved with gold".'

'Oh, that's awkward.'

'I'll be draining _your_ talent, one day, but I'm still impressed. All our feats of engineering have become ruins. Even if this wall is garish, I'd love to build something on this scale once the Freljord is united.'

Volibear says, 'I hope you never get the chance.'

Quinn seems forlorn. 'But your country's like a dream. I'll remember that view from the mountainside, those campfires and fairy lights, until I fall in battle.'

What a horrible thought. Surely Demacians can retire? I say, 'You needn't worry. My plan is to use infrastructure to reveal more of the Freljord, rather than bury nature with buildings. I can't explain without showing you the great cities of our past. Archaeology tells a million stories better than words.'

'I'd love to see them,' says Quinn, 'But I know you can't promise anything.' She glances about. 'I… need a moment, if that's all right?'

'What are you doing?' We're in her territory now and I can't trust her blindly. She may be answering a call of nature, but she normally uses that exact phrase to excuse herself.

'I have to wear my disguise or people in Demacia might recognise me,' Quinn says. 'Don't worry. Volibear will hear if I go too far.'

He sounds wary. 'Provided Valor doesn't whisk you into the sky.'

Quinn shoves two fingers into her mouth and whistles. Valor settles on a rock, watching us like a gargoyle staring from a turret.

Volibear stares back. 'Hmph. Is he here as collateral, or to prevent us following?'

'A bit of both,' says Quinn. 'I'd rather you didn't see my… you know.'

Quinn doesn't like her breasts. Even at our most intimate, she covered up. Surprisingly, Volibear concedes with only a grunt of exasperation. She gives a little wave then scurries away to get undressed. Volibear asks, 'Are you the sole human woman who doesn't hate her body?'

'Possibly, though I have my moments. I'm surprised you let her go.'

'Quinn's pain is… familiar even if I don't fully grasp it.' Volibear shakes his head. 'Ugh, I shouldn't have indulged her. Too much is at stake.'

'When you say "familiar", are you talking about Sejuani?'

'Whatever she's told you is none of my business and I've betrayed her confidence enough.'

I watch as he lumbers away, ending our conversation. 'Do you still consider this a betrayal?'

'Yes.'

We stand apart in silence. Valor hops over to me. His large eyes reflect a grossly distorted image of my face. I can see my nostrils prised apart. Is that what Valor sees? Maybe that's my true self.

I'm so mesmerised, I barely notice when Valor casually unfurls one wing. A sudden blow drops me to the soil. My vision clears and I see Valor gnawing at his plumage without a care.

The slap was obligatory for seducing his best friend without flowers or a promise, a normal response to a normal cad.

Thank you, Valor. That was a fine gesture. For a moment, I felt like a scoundrel rather than a devil or a saint. I felt like a person.

Quinn hasn't returned yet. I grow nervous. 'Do you smell company?'

Volibear's nose twitches. 'There's a human farm about a mile south. Maybe less than a mile if this wall's blocking the wind.'

'Any sign of an ambush?'

'Nothing obvious.'

'Jarvan has a mage. She could weave an illusion to…'

Quinn saunters into view.

Her shock of messy, purple hair is covered with a grey bandana. Padding across her waist thickens her androgynous planes to a masculine bell-shape. Wide, flared britches hang loose over her strong thighs. Any hint of a woman's walk is channelled into a swagger, both hands thrust into her pockets. I think her boots are filled or altered in some way, boosting her to my height.

The top and sides of her neck are graded subtly, bringing out her jawline, which is dotted enough to suggest a half-day of stubble. Her fair lips are blurred with a kind of tallow that lessens their prominence, while small ticks of charcoal darken her mouth. Her eyes are the biggest shock. Not only are they smudged enough to make them appear smaller, they have changed colour from amber to brown.

Quinn smirks, as though she's about to say an awful chat-up line, and… 'Unfortunately, I could never get the voice right.'

I burst out laughing. 'You sound like a little boy trying to get served in a tavern.'

'I guess that works.'

'Erm… how did you…?'

'The eyes? Lenses imported from Zaun. Totally worth it.'

I have more to say but all I can do is picture myself as a curious, confident little girl, playing with grubby little Quinn, all frogs and snails and puppy dogs' tails. Behind a grain silo, I'd raise my skirts and let innocent fingers unearth my secrets. I'd watch Quinn's face contort in bewilderment and arousal with each wet pump of my fist…

* * *

I'm trapped within my thoughts. When I was a girl, playing with girls, I rarely felt powerful. My partners were either too solicitous or competitive. I'd never had a leash on a boy's throat. If I'd experienced it, would I have turned out worse, or would I be gentler, more comfortable with the reins of power?

Would I not have hurt Sejuani?

Would she love me still?

* * *

I must have blacked out. Under the gallop of my palpitations, I hear voices yelling, 'Ashe? Ashe!'

I blink. 'Um… yes?'

Twin sighs of relief answer me. Volibear says. 'You didn't respond for a good fifteen seconds. I thought you were having a seizure.'

I'm inwardly terrified. All I have is my focus and I'm losing it. 'Oh, nothing so dramatic, I think it's just a bit of sunstroke and worry. This climate is challenging.'

Volibear nods in sympathy. Quinn says. 'I told you to keep your hood up and have plenty of water!' She looks even poutier as a boy. 'Have you touched your flask? You never look after yourself.'

She's being too personal. 'Quinn, we've barely spent a fortnight in each other's company. Settle down.'

She flinches. I must have spoken with too much venom. 'Yes… Your Majesty,' she says, bitterly.

The boundaries are in place. I hope she doesn't retaliate. 'Thank you. So where do we go now?'

'Valor can take us over but…' She looks at Volibear. My trepidation grows. Does this mean Quinn was planning to separate us?

Undaunted, Volibear shows off his claws. 'You've not seen a bear climb? I'll get over. Truth be told, I'm surprised you don't clear the trees from this area. They make the wall pointless.'

Quinn says, 'Our northern border's not a concern. We need all our resources to repel Noxus.' Demacia's aid seems unlikelier by the day. Valor squawks. 'Oh, shut up, you.'

I have to ask, 'What was that?'

'Val and I need to split up or he blows my cover, so he makes fun of me while he still can.'

'Your appearance tickles him?'

'Always. Now before we go…' Quinn throws me her canteen. I'm too slow to catch, and it ricochets off my bosom. In a fit of pique, I massage my sore breast in front of Quinn. I know she can't handle it. Sure enough, her ears turn bright red. She stammers. 'Hydrate yourself before you pass out. I haven't seen you drink all day.'

Volibear says dryly, 'She ran out of liquor this morning.'

I swear nothing gets past him. Quinn's one tantrum away from getting me killed. I say, 'With better company, I wouldn't have to get drunk.' I make a point of spilling half the water down my cleavage. Apart from the sexy thrill of putting on a show for Quinn, it simply feels good. I stare daggers at Volibear. 'Do you think Sejuani's improving while you pass judgement?'

'I'll march alone if I must.' Volibear glides up the nearest tree like an otter swimming upstream. His body's even longer than I thought. He could swallow me whole with a deep breath.

I lick a stray drop of water from the canteen then throw it back. 'Thank you but I'm done. You have the rest.'

I see her throat undulate with each gulp. She coughs into her hands. When she looks up, the lenses are gone. Her naked eyes are bloodshot.

She murmurs, 'Better than nothing,' as Valor hoists me into the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

Quinn is chattier now. Jarvan was right about one thing. She talks plenty despite her unease. I guess others don't listen to her when louder voices dominate.

She discloses nothing personal beyond where her memories work and fail. Her speech is a wall of trivia. Maybe this new bearing is an effect of her disguise or she's reminding us we're in her lair. Quinn is no helpless chick. She's a professional.

I watch her mouth while she describes the sound and stench of the cattle markets, and how little they spend on cleaning roads. I'm suddenly humbled that this young warrior trusted me with her defloration, such an important rite in her culture.

She notices my attention. 'Am I babbling, Your Majesty?' The formal address carries its usual sting.

'Not at all. I enjoy listening to you.'

Volibear says, 'Keep it up. You're helping me stay awake. Besides, we may need information about your land if we lose your guidance.'

Quinn doesn't sound flattered. 'You think I'll betray you.'

'Naturally,' he says, 'But I trust Ashe even less.' I don't answer. 'My concern is that Jarvan will assign a different escort, someone less co-operative.'

Please, not Lux. Avarosa, preserve me.

_Luxanna's a kindred soul, but she never had your freedom._

Huh?

Quinn addresses me. Too late, I realise the direction I'm facing. 'Is there something wrong with my disguise?'

'No, just erm…' Very smooth, Ashe, you had no such trouble when you were seducing her. Get with it. 'How do you not sweat? Your make-up hasn't run at all.'

'I smear on paste which clogs up all of my pores. I'll soon be covered in spots. Even fewer people will give me a second glance.'

'Well, I'm going to peel something rotten if it's any consolation.'

A knowing smile touches her dark lenses. 'You're peeling already.'

Wait, was that a threat? Am I losing any semblance of control? I glance over my bare skin. I'm shedding like a lizard.

She says, 'There's an apothecary who does a really good ointment. I could fetch you some if you'd like?' I have to nod. Maybe she's drugging us, but I can't think of a polite reason to say no. 'Volibear, there's a river coming up, if you have to cool off.'

He says, 'You're our prisoner. Shouldn't we be seeing to _your_ welfare?'

'You're in no position to grant anything _I_ need.'

* * *

The Citadel of Dawn is a beacon, shining justice upon all. We've nothing like it in the Freljord, where an exposed fort is impossible to maintain. We have to keep at least one face covered or the fierce northern winds will tear us apart.

In Demacia, decency comes before survival.

Quinn says, 'They claim you can see it from a hundred miles around, an exaggeration of course, but one you can believe. As children, we used to see the home fires roaming under the stars. We thought, one day, we'd bear those torches, bringing light and inspiration. It wasn't to be.'

Volibear asks, 'An absent friend?'

'I had a twin brother. He's no longer with us.'

'You have my condolences.'

'Thank you,' says Quinn. 'But I have enough challenges that I rarely dwell.'

'Action is always good.'

I look up at our destination and wonder if there's a public execution awaiting us. 'I hope you're right.' Valor prowls the horizon. I don't know whether I picture Quinn's brother as her disguise or another giant eagle. 'If you don't mind me asking, what was your brother like?'

'Oh, you can ask anything of me.' That sounds like a recrimination. 'Just in case you're wondering, no, you're not looking at him. He was far taller than me, and still felt the need to lie about his height. His hair was lighter, sort of strawberry-blonde rather than…' She waves at her bandana, which obscures everything. I already know Quinn's a natural redhead, even if she's coy about it for some reason. 'And his eyes were blue. He was always the clown, and I was the quiet, cautious one. He was popular but very choosy about his friends. I think he wanted them to like me as well, which was nice but… you know, sometimes I felt like an excuse.'

'Did he not like opening up?'

'Yeah, I don't think was scared. He just liked having the world at arm's length, so he didn't have to take it seriously. He had a lot of girlfriends but he couldn't go a month without losing interest and breaking someone's heart. I used to go mad at him over that, for all the good it did. I think he knew I was jealous.'

Volibear says, 'Of whom?'

'Everyone, I guess? They had a life and I didn't.'

I say, 'You never told me his name.'

'No, the sound of it is like a familiar scent or a piece of music. It brings all the memories rushing back.'

'You don't have to…'

'Yes, I do,' says Quinn. 'You deserve to know before…'

Dread rises. 'Before what, Quinn?'

'Anything? I don't know. There's every chance we'll…' Quinn turns away. 'Caleb. His name was Caleb.'

A tear rolls down Quinn's cheek from an artificial iris. Any decent person would comfort her in some way but Volibear's scrutiny holds me back.

While I hesitate, he steps in, laying a fatherly paw on her shoulder. He reproaches me with a glance before saying to Quinn, 'I feel your pain, young one. I lost most of my family when I was a cub, through disease, war and ill-fortune. Only my father survived to die of old age and he would have given his life for any of us.'

Quinn smiles. 'Call me "young one" again, and I'll call you "Mr. Bear".'

Volibear chuckles. 'That's fair.'

She looks at me with dead longing. I can't voice an apology. She changes the subject. 'How's your ropework, Your Majesty?'

'Good enough to scale mountains but I'm not above guidance.'

'My legs hyper-extend. I once gnawed through ankle binds when I was caught. You'll have to secure my feet and wrists together or His Majesty will know I had a chance to escape.'

I picture Quinn, trussed up like a deer, tight bottom thrust outwards, ready for spit-roasting. 'I'd rather strap your ankles to your thighs. You'll be easier to carry that way.'

'Do you want me to die of cramp? Suspend me from a pole. You could spread the weight across you and Volibear.'

'We'll pretend we did that for the journey but I'll need you as a human shield when I approach the castle. I want your vitals exposed.'

'Ugh, all right.' She beckons Valor. 'Good luck securing him, by the way. He won't co-operate, even if I ask him to. You'll have to wrestle him down.'

Volibear sizes him up. 'That's a demon with wings, not a bird.'

As I feel the burn of the rope, sliding through my hands, I picture Quinn's muscles flexing under the pressure. Grabbing her arm, I twirl her like a dance partner. My breath touches her neck as I drive her wrists between her shoulder blades. 'Don't enjoy this too much.'

'No promises,' Quinn says, turning her cheek so our lips are barely an inch apart. I catch the briefest taste of her skin and nearly cry out. She says, 'I'm sorry, Ashe.'

I hesitate at the sound of my name, rather than my title. 'What for?'

'Everything.' She looks up at the castle. 'I wonder if they're watching us from up there?'

'Is that likely?'

'Never thought about it until now,' she says. 'Hold a big enough secret inside and it casts a shadow across everything you see.'

* * *

We scale the hill. Volibear holds Quinn and Valor aloft. While the golden road is impressive, all I can imagine is rain darkening it an ugly greyish-brown.

Quinn's discomfort is lost under Valor's angry snorting. We had to tie his beak shut so Volibear wouldn't go deaf.

I see figures approach. Wrapping myself around Quinn, I hold a simple knife to her throat. I have to draw blood or it won't look real. My ceremonial dagger, the Frost Queen's Claim, stays at home. I did horrible things with that weapon, things I may have to repeat if Sejuani has her way.

The leading silhouette is unmistakeable. Those immense pauldrons could only mean… 'Garen?' I say. 'Does he normally welcome visitors?'

Quinn says, 'On occasion. He loves to be the face of Demacia. This is good, I think.'

'Why?'

'Garen believes in people, so he'll assume you can be reasoned with.'

'There's always a first.' I prepare my thoughts and words. 'Who should I watch out for?'

'Xin Zhao. If no one tells him to back off, he'll call our bluff.'

'What about Lux?'

'She'll adore this. I don't think she'll interfere.'

Garen thunders over the ground like a charging horse. I feel my bones rattle as he draws near. I pray Quinn's right about his generosity. He was one of the friendlier members of Jarvan's entourage but remains a terrifying sight, even taller and wider than Tryndamere.

Garen recognises Valor's plumage and signals everyone to stop. 'Quinn?' He tries to make sense of the tangle of limbs under Volibear's arm. 'Quinn? What have they done to you?'

I hiss. 'Nothing yet.' With a jerk of my wrist, I puncture Quinn's throat. Her pulse urges life to the surface. If only Quinn were a better actress, I could fool myself that I wasn't scaring her.

Garen's jaw drops. 'Queen Ashe?'

'Finally recognise me? You saw through my act before. Don't pretend you're surprised.'

'I thought you were reckless but not suicidal. You won't achieve anything by threatening us. Release Quinn. Don't let your personal failings ruin everything you've achieved!'

I laugh like a stage villain. 'It's a bit late for that, and it's far too late for you to show concern. After all, you sent a spy to map our defences!'

'That wasn't Quinn's purpose, and you know it! Why in Valoran would we send a known agent when we could…?'

'Incompetence? I don't care for your excuses. All I care is that she was in my lands without my permission. Or do you think all of Runeterra is your proving ground?'

Volibear lends his voice to mine. 'And your history with Ashe means nothing to me. _I_ captured Quinn, and if Ashe hadn't arrived when she did, your cub would have been torn asunder.' He can twist events like any demagogue. What else are you hiding, Volibear? 'Maybe I'm a fool to believe her but Ashe insisted you have something I need. You owe her Quinn's life.'

Garen looks to the heavens in frustration. 'Your tribes were mortal enemies yesterday. Now you're collaborating. Why did we get involved again? I told Jarvan to give Quinn a break, rather than send her on a vigil to the Freljord of all places. When he burrows into that maze in his head, you need an army to drag him out.' I see my reflection in his claymore. 'You will pay for this but, right now, all I want is to save Quinn. Tell me your price.'

The first obstacle's down. I say, 'Grant me a private audience with Prince Jarvan.'

'Dig yourself deeper if you must. I'll take you but whatever harm you've done to Quinn will be paid back a hundred fold.'

Success. I pat Volibear's arm, thanking him for his vital improvisation. We'd barely managed a civil exchange, let alone a rehearsal. He lumbers on, effortlessly holding our prisoners like trophies.

I stay behind Quinn. Garen looks at her with brotherly concern. 'Don't fret. You'll be safe and home where you belong. I promise.'

Quinn says, 'I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble.'

'You're no trouble, Quinn. I have a younger sister who's trouble. Whatever happens, I'm on your side. Frankly, I'm sick of Jarvan taking you for granted.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'Call me "Garen" already. You're a fellow knight as far as I'm concerned.'

I'm so grateful that I stupidly comment. 'I'm glad you still accept her.'

'Still?' Garen barks. 'What right have you to sanction our judgement? You're nothing but a wolf. Don't speak as though Quinn's open heart justifies your perversion!'


	6. Chapter 6

I've no time to look upon endless portraits, no time to feel the weight of history, no time to spy gold ornaments and worry that I've blundered into a dragon's lair. There's _certainly_ no time to savour the heat and sweat of the young woman I'm clutching for dear life.

Instead, I have to note every corridor, turning and lobby to construct a map. I see balconies and choke points where an archer, behind a wall of regenerating Ursine flesh, might sow havoc. Should we invite Jarvan's wrath, we'll need every trick at our disposal.

Over and over, Garen yells the situation is under control, no sudden moves. Each repetition is like a hammer blow to my skull.

Our footsteps echo down a great hall, flanked with statues of legendary knights. A chill crosses the back of my neck. I see Lux, watching from above, her smile as blank and irritating as ever. She cups her oval face, observing us without lifting a finger. Quinn was right about her non-interference, at least.

Once Garen reaches a pair of massive, emblazoned doors, I steel myself. This must be our reckoning.

I'm surprised at how small Jarvan's receiving room is. Comprising a circle between two staircases, it resembles a duelling pit. One descent is at our entrance, the other by Jarvan's ebony throne, a tasteful shock amid the shine.

Jarvan slouches, wearing the same golden armour as before. He's even kept his three day stubble. The sense of _déjà_ _vu_ slows my reactions. I don't see Xin Zhao until his weapon digs into the thin flesh under my ribs. In response, I push my knife deep enough that Quinn squawks in pain. Volibear squeezes Valor until bones crack.

Finally, Jarvan surges upright. 'Everyone, stand down!'

Xin Zhao doesn't move. I'm told my "piercing azure glare" can bring anyone to their knees. All those compliments ring false before Xin Zhao's unwavering serenity. He says, 'This woman is no killer.' Sejuani would be disappointed. As glad as I am to hear Xin Zhao's appraisal, I can't imagine worse timing.

Jarvan says, 'Can you look at her companion and say the same?'

Xin Zhao's attention flickers. 'No,' he says, lowering his weapon.

While Jarvan looks over the battlefield, I sense a profound weight, weakening his posture. He's one of the tallest men I've seen but he wears it like a burden. As a war veteran, his lack of response may stem from weariness rather than statesmanship. I have to find an opening. He says, 'Garen, you did the right thing, as always. Thank you.'

Garen salutes. 'I couldn't risk anyone's life, Your Majesty.'

'No time for protocol. I think Ashe warrants a little candour.' Jarvan address me. 'I didn't expect you to ransom Quinn but I saw the possibility. Never did I think you'd arrive in person with an Ursine traitor.'

Volibear refuses the bait. 'Your expectations are meaningless. We're in control, not you.' He rattles Valor hard enough to scare me.

Jarvan balks. 'Enough! You've made your point. What are your demands?'

I have to be careful. Jarvan's unlikely to publicise Quinn's affair but if I misplay, he might retaliate. One stray comment will turn Volibear against me. The dance begins. 'I'll give them to you, alone. Send your men away.'

Jarvan follows my lead. 'Xin Zhao stays. You're not taking me hostage.'

'You… me… Quinn. Everyone else goes.'

I hear Volibear growl. 'You planned this from the start, you witch.'

'We share just one goal. That doesn't mean you're privy to all my dealings. We're still at war.'

Lightning erupts. My heart echoes wildly. 'Count yourself lucky that I made a promise to a better chieftain. Sacrifice me then. If you don't succeed in your quest, I'll haunt you for the rest of your days.'

Garen says, 'You're in Demacia. The just are safe, whatever Queen Ashe might intend.'

'She's not my queen.'

Jarvan twists a mechanism behind his throne. A partition opens, revealing a corridor lit by magical fire. He stalks over the threshold like a heron. Does every Demacian have an odd walk? You have Garen's gallop, Xin Zhao's trundling siege unit impersonation, Quinn's adorable hunch…

I'm anxious enough that I miss Jarvan's explanation. All I hear is, 'Warded against eavesdroppers, magical and otherwise.'

'Oh…' I come back to the present. 'Lux's work?'

'We are the vanguard of arcane suppression. Our ingenuity runs deeper than you know.'

Lux will definitely be watching. I pray that's all she does.

* * *

Trailing through the bowels of the castle, I haul Quinn like a slain doe. Jarvan eyes me curiously. 'How perfectly barbaric.' I scowl, not dignifying his quip with an answer. He continues. 'You're stronger than you look. A shame, your costumes undermine your power.'

'How gallant. I was thinking the same about your armour.' He looks ridiculous.

'True. It is meant to be seen from a distance, not up close.'

The secret war room is impossibly huge. Some of our banqueting halls are smaller. The table covers Runeterra in exhaustive detail. Jarvan does consider the whole world his backyard.

Thankfully, his map of the Freljord is incomplete. If it's roughly to scale, he's got a vague sense of where Sejuani roams but Ursine lands are too far north. That's almost Lissandra's territory.

There's a little bird figurine touching base with a bow and arrow. That must be Quinn and me, together as if we're married. At least Jarvan can't deny knowledge of Quinn's movements with this on show.

Despite all this opulence, I'd sooner work at my narrow desk. I have charts, rather than pointless bunting, upon every spare bit of wall. Demacia may have reach but they lack focus and raw field information. Too many variables are going unheeded, a fatal omission if you're campaigning in adverse conditions.

I understand why Lux was keen to get involved with us.

I lower Quinn to the floor and cradle her in my lap. I touch the clotted blood on her neck, silently horrified at my own capabilities. I wish I could apologise but I can't say the words until I have Jarvan's co-operation. She's drinking in our proximity, like a slave gulping filthy water because they'll never taste wine.

Jarvan picks up a chair and sits apart from us. He leans forward, resting his massive chin upon a clenched fist. 'Where to begin?' he says. 'Quinn, I'm glad to see you back home where you belong.'

'Thanks, Your Majesty. Sorry for causing you so much trouble.' She keeps repeating that phrase.

'If anyone's causing trouble, it's the woman with a knife to your throat.' He scrutinises me. 'What is the meaning of this, Ashe?'

'I caught one of your spies, and I need a ship in return.'

'A very specific request. Why?'

'To rescue someone from the Shadow Isles.'

He draws back in surprise. 'Intriguing, and who is your Ursine companion? Evidently, he's not your subject and wields thunder like a shaman. I'm confident that's Volibear himself.'

'It is. The person we're here to rescue is the Winter's Wrath, Sejuani.'

Jarvan responds as though scolding a child. 'The woman you sought our help to crush. Now you wish to save her. Quinn, you performed a great service, keeping us out of this war. Despite Ashe's claims, I suspected our two tribes were not so distant.'

I say, 'You mean _Tryndamere's_ claims. I always insisted our tribes were one people. A shame you remember his words and not mine.'

'You were less clear, deprived of sleep and wit. Regardless, your… indiscretion with Quinn raised a possibility, that you propositioned Sejuani before Tryndamere. Your muddled actions befit a spurned lover.'

He's impossibly near the mark. 'No… you presume too much. I find her attractive. Many people do. That was my sole omission.'

'Suppose I believe you. What has changed since our last meeting?'

'Do you remember the story of how Lissandra nearly killed us?' He nods. 'After you left, I captured Volibear. He told me Sejuani was able to come back and save us by pledging her soul to Kalista.'

'Do you believe him?'

'Volibear's not a liar. You can take him at his word.'

'Should I be dealing with him and not you?'

'He would ask you for the same thing.'

'Though he would be more willing to sacrifice Quinn,' says Jarvan. 'Was the theatre for his benefit, a means to persuade him you were serious? You must spend every moment in his company fearing for your life.'

Just a bit. 'I'd be lying if I said otherwise but he needs my help.'

'Why you? Does he believe you more competent and ruthless than his kin?'

'Yes and, unlike him, I've got a vessel to carry souls back to the Freljord.'

Jarvan's hostility grows. 'You would employ dark arts to further your cause?'

'Not at all.' I think he protests too much. 'Anivia provided it.'

'Elemental magic?''

'I presume.'

'So Volibear would have no trouble wielding it himself?'

'No more than I would.'

'Then why risk his company? He could simply kill you and steal it.'

'I needed someone who could brave the Shadow Isles.'

'Yet we have resources. You could have made Garen or Luxanna one of your demands.' He closes the net. 'What you _really_ needed was someone to kill Quinn on your behalf, and you couldn't bring yourself to give her up.' I'm choking. 'Why should I believe you can kill her now? That we have anything to negotiate apart from your release?'

'Because…' I fall silent and lose myself in Quinn's plain beauty. She represents all I'm fighting for, the right of normal people to simply be.

Suddenly, Quinn's the most precious thing in this whole, twisted world. Before getting to know her, I wouldn't have picked out her face in a field. Now I can't believe I'm responsible for something so gorgeous and unique.

I'm trying and failing to weigh Sejuani's ineffable damnation against a visceral here and now. My willpower's gone. I'm sorry, my princess. You thought I was pitiless enough to save us both. I'd always wanted to prove you wrong but not like this.

Jarvan grabs a lance off the wall. 'I respect your sense of obligation. If a worthy opponent saved my friends, I would not think twice about returning the favour, but I can't allow you to extort Demacia. You have no hold over me, as Quinn's life is not at risk. I will excuse your trespass and not send anyone else to your country. That is all you will get from me.'

I swallow but the lump in my throat will not vanish. 'What about Volibear?'

'Luxanna can bind him if you can't retaliate.'

So, I have to make a genuine effort on Quinn's life? Should I begin cutting off her fingers? I…

Quinn yells. 'No! You can't do this, Your Majesty!'

He dismisses her. 'Quinn, I've made my decision. It's over.'

'But…'

'I've given you space to reflect and overcome when a sterner liege would have disowned you for dragging our name through the dirt. Your broken past and immaturity will excuse no further. Let this woman go before she destroys you.'

'Before _Ashe_ destroys me? For the sake of _your_ pride, you're gambling with my life!' Quinn bares her throat. On cue, I thrust my blade into her right shoulder. She cries out in pain. 'You may not take Ashe's desperation seriously but I've known it, first-hand. I felt her pass out in the middle of my first kiss!' Jarvan cringes at that detail. He can face mortal danger but not intimacy, and Quinn knows it. 'I want to live, Your Majesty!'

She's roaring from her tiny body. Jarvan is losing control of the situation. 'Calm down, I promise you'll be…'

'Don't tell me to calm down when you're letting me die! Am I that repulsive? That you'd abandon me for the sake of providing a ship? For the sake of ending a civil war? If you won't take Ashe's threat seriously then how about mine? If you don't help, I'll tell everyone you ordered me to seduce her!'

Jarvan points with his lance. 'You wouldn't dare.'

'Dare to what? Save myself? How else can I persuade you that Ashe is going to kill me?'

'Do you think anyone would believe a promiscuous farm girl over…?'

'Yes, they would!' She powers through his objection. 'I'm Demacia's Wings and I bear your message to people like me. There are legions of dirty, stinking farm girls, and only one of you!'

Jarvan advances like an angry treant. Even if Quinn survives, her life is over… unless I justify her treason. I had doubted her loyalty but, right now, she's more committed than I am.

Sejuani, when we meet, you will know every moment of my weakness. I promise.

Distraught at what I must do, I sever Quinn's jugular.

Blood gushes. Her mouth stretches in a grotesque yawn. I stare Jarvan down as I press my fingers into the warm river. Baring my teeth, I choke out a threat. 'I'm serious, Jarvan. I… love Quinn but I can't forgo this chance to unite the Freljord. Help me or I'll release the pressure and our little bird will be… no more.'

Jarvan reaches out like a man drowning. His weapon clatters to the floor. 'Quinn, I was a fool to doubt your words and risk your life. I am unworthy of being your prince.' He kneels. 'I will see to your wounds and… arrange a vessel for Queen Ashe.'

I forget about our performance and wail. Huddling over Quinn, I touch our heads together, praying she's already too drowsy to fear death.

With the scraping of metal on stone, Jarvan shuffles away. He murmurs to himself. 'Demacia… you teach me something new every day. This truly is…. the greatest…'


	7. Chapter 7

I held on long enough to see Jarvan's court musician flow into the war room, green tendrils of energy spiralling from her chords. Once I knew Quinn would live, I withdrew into blissful catatonia.

There's no veil between sleep and wakefulness. I open my eyes, yet I can't infer my surroundings or the time of day. My limbs won't move. All is a horrible, sickly grey.

There's one constant, an ice floe, drifting like a mote through vitreous humour. From a bright shape, erect like a tower, comes a known voice, questioning and eternal. 'You live. That is good. You were unreachable even when conscious. I'm surprised your medicine wasn't poison.'

'Volibear?' I lift a hand. It's like I'm touching someone else's forehead, or a damp stone wall. 'Ugh… what happened?'

'Jarvan came storming out of the room, shouting for a healer. After the wide, loud human returned with aid, I was told I could release Valor as we'd get our ship. Obviously, I did nothing until I saw Quinn, drenched with blood.' Volibear's tone remains calm. Savagery doesn't faze him. 'I knew then our battle was over, no matter the verdict.'

'Is Quinn alive?'

'Yes, you didn't cause her any lasting harm.'

Oh, Volibear, how little you know. 'Good. I think we've won. Even if Jarvan weren't one to keep his word, I suspect a third party saw everything, one who's not above using secrets to her advantage.'

'You've lost me.'

'Lux,' I say. 'Garen's younger sister. She's a piece of work and a powerful mage. If Jarvan turns on us, I think she'll exact a heavy toll for her silence.'

'You have a supple mind. I can barely keep up with all the names, and I'm genuinely startled you followed through with your promise to kill Quinn. I underestimated your willingness to bloody your hands.'

'I have more blood on my hands than you could ever know.' I try to sit up. Every joint feels weak and sore. 'What is wrong with me?'

'Dehydration and stress, reportedly. The healer at your bedside is mute, and averse to writing things down. Be mindful of your condition. She may be hiding something.'

'Are we in the same room?'

'Sadly, no. The Demacians aren't entirely without sense. I learnt about your state when a twittering yellow girl consulted me. She smelt of magic and I saw a wolf in her smile, so I erred on the side of caution, insisting I'd speak only with Jarvan or Quinn. I'm sure if your life depended on my intervention, one of them would say something.'

I nearly cry out in gratitude. 'You're a natural, Volibear. That was Lux.'

'Your prior words make sense. I'd watch your symptoms carefully.'

'I will but I can't see or feel much. Everything's grey.'

'That should pass. I can already feel you drifting.' Volibear exhales through his nose. 'For what it's worth, I'm in a large open cage, on display to the world like a circus animal. I'm coping through meditation. If the Demacians are helping us, they have a strange way of showing it.'

* * *

I wake up. My room smells of sickness and death, poorly masked with potpourri. Craning my neck, I see Jarvan's court musician, her hands folded and eyes closed in contemplation. This is the first time I've studied her closely. Despite her clear skin, she doesn't have the bearing of a young woman. She's perfectly glamorous, wearing a ceremonial dress that wreathes her buxom figure like a summer breeze. I feel that if I reached out, my hand would pass right through her. She's more like a feminine ideal than a living person.

How tragic. She must be lonely beyond words.

The musician looks up, as if hearing my thoughts. With an enigmatic smile, she plays a friendly chord on her zither, a greeting.

I venture, 'Good… morning?'

She nods. The room is drenched in the cloying amber of the dawn.

I feel nauseous, and my head is splitting. She motions to a jug of water at my bedside. So Volibear was right, I am dehydrated. As I reach for the jug, the musician holds my gaze. Her smile vanishes. Glancing to the door, she quietly plays a dissonant, loping waltz then draws a circle above her chest.

'Something's wrong with my heart?'

She nods. Her sculpted nails hover warily. She raises a finger to her lips.

We have company.

Quinn enters, creeping like a mischievous boy. An ill-fitting hood - absurd in warm weather, let alone indoors - conceals her scarred throat and ragged hair. Thankfully, she's taken out her lenses. Her golden eyes are sparkling again. 'You're awake! I thought I heard your voice. How are you feeling?'

' _You're_ asking me? You're just like Sejuani.'

Quinn forces a laugh, dismissing my comparison before she dwells on it. 'Ooh, it was obvious what was wrong with me, blood loss and all. Sona couldn't figure you out. She kept sounding all these horrible notes.'

'I think I was only tired.'

'Ashe, you've blacked out on me three times!'

Her indiscretion will be the death of me. Sona's right there. 'Will you…' My breath catches while I sit up. I realise, too late, that I'm undressed. Since when were Demacians comfortable with nudity? Luckily, I'm endowed enough to snag the sheets before they pool. 'Stop worrying about me! What you did was treason, even if you were at risk. You're lucky Jarvan sees you as a companion rather than a subject, or you wouldn't be here now.'

She turns red. 'A companion? I wouldn't go that far.' Quinn shouldn't blush over that. I'm angry enough that I don't reply. She's better than silly daydreams about Prince Charmless raising her out of poverty. Sona gives me an arch look, as if impressed with my deduction. 'Besides, I've already received my sentence, and it's one I'd have chosen.'

'I don't like the sound of this.'

'I'm coming with you to the Shadow Isles.'

Jarvan's devised a way for Quinn to prove herself beyond scandal, or execution by another name. 'Do you have any protection from undead?'

'Er… does Valor count?'

I doubt it. 'You should ask Volibear.' So Jarvan's given her nothing. With my best matriarchal tone, I say, 'The Shadow Isles will claim an untethered soul. Your company would be welcome but I'd reconsider.' Sona plays a tremulous chord, an affirmation of my warning.

'I knew you'd say that. Your friends told you the same, didn't they?'

'Well, yes but…'

'You ignored them. You wouldn't let someone else rescue Sejuani.' Conviction surrounds her like an aura. 'Sorry but you've got me whether you like it or not.'

I really want us to part ways. Quinn deserves a rest, and Volibear may catch us in a moment. 'Are you sure he won't budge on this?'

Quinn rubs her neck. 'I don't think you should try his generosity.'

I glimpse raw skin where her collar shifts. 'Erm… Quinn?'

'Yes?'

'Could you take off that hood?'

'I'd rather not. You'll get upset.'

'I have to bear the consequences of my deeds, and we both know lies can hurt.'

With her eyes closed, she tugs on the fabric. I see the markings of my desperation, three parallel strokes of increasing length and thickness.

Words fail me. Sona plucks a remorseful cadence. Quinn answers, 'Don't worry, Sona. You did well. I've no problem with how they look. I just don't want Ashe and His Majesty feeling regret whenever they see me.'

I'm drawn to her neck, appalled with the steadiness of my cuts. 'I'm sorry, Quinn. I don't expect you to forgive me.'

'You did nothing wrong. This is proof of my trust. I knew that if I drove you to the line, you wouldn't cross it, and I knew His Majesty wouldn't let me die.' Quinn thumps her chest in salute. 'Now, you have your ship, and you have me. Believe in yourself as I believe in you.'

My heart flutters. 'No, Quinn. You shouldn't ever trust me. I misled you once before.'

'Yes, but within your deception was… more truth than I could ever forget.' For a moment, I think she's going to say more but she bites off her unspoken words with a twisted smile. 'I should leave. The walls have ears and few people are dumb like Sona.' Quinn touches my ankle in awkward farewell. 'Rest up, Ashe. I'm ready when you are.' She leaves.

I throw off the bedclothes, tired of stewing in my own filth. Sona doesn't bat an eyelid at my sprawl. I feel like a pasty lump of meat as I rake through my tangles. 'What does anyone see in me?' Sona mimes laughter. 'Can I have whatever you put in your hair?'

She claps her hands together and nods. I guess few people discuss grooming with her.

'Thanks. We'll make a queen of me yet.' Her eyes betray nothing, like an empty sky. 'You must hear a lot.' She cocks her head to one side. 'And if you answered that question, people wouldn't tell you as much.'

No response.

'Why didn't you tell anyone about my heart?'

Sona plays a strange, wandering melody that ends without resolution. I have no idea what she means. When I try to speak again, she hits a jarring chord, ending the conversation. She turns her back and starts rifling through a drawer of cosmetics.

I guess if I'm to keep my secrets, I have to respect hers.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm unfamiliar with open seas but I'm surprised at how the shore feels like home.

I stroll across the boardwalk. Strong winds ruffle my hair, providing respite from Demacia's dead heat. Pale gulls circle above masts of human artistry.

I peel off my gloves, bundle my cloak into my arms and savour the breeze. I draw many disapproving stares. You'd think even Demacian docks would allow for some level of undress. I pity the grafting sailors, drenched with grog and sweat under a naked sun.

Quinn glances over my bra, skirt, boots and everything in between. Our eyes meet and she turns away, as if burnt. 'Uh… I… how can you dress like that?'

'I'm far too hot.' I laugh. 'And your climate's a bit warm for me.'

Quinn groans at my terrible joke. 'You like it when strangers gawp at you?'

'Sometimes, but I have to be presentable at home.'

She gnaws her lip and scratches parts of her body. Leering faces are deterred by her scowl. 'You'll get heatstroke or sunburn if you're not careful. I don't want you passing out again.'

'Could you let it go?' I say. 'We're all sick at one point or another.'

'You're still sick. Your ribs are…'

'Let it go!' Why can't I be carefree just once? 'My body is my concern. Thank you very much. I don't let anyone control it unless I'm due an orgasm.'

She replies with a cross little grunt and withdraws in embarrassment. I nearly jump when Volibear speaks up. 'A shame you don't extend others the same courtesy. The Freljord is not your rose garden.'

I say, 'I want everyone to have a chance, not just those who fit one ideal. Your people may thrive in our current circumstances but you don't win a war by repeating one battle, praying things will never change. We have to diversify.'

'If you don't allow for purpose beyond existence, why should anyone change?'

'I guess by "purpose" you mean conflict. I believe people can find their own purpose without living in fear.'

'You're too naïve, or wilfully blind. For generations, my tribe languished. Every person chose an easy life because they could. We nearly died out.' He speaks as though the memory is fresh.

'I've no doubt you've earnt your wisdom but your experience does not comprise the world.'

'Yes, which is why I follow the chieftain who sees the farthest.'

'She's a perceptive woman,' I say, 'But she has trouble with issues closer to home.' A figure of speech that hides a physical truth, Sejuani's longsighted. It's our little secret.

'You're not wrong.' Volibear turns to our sulking ally. 'Quinn, I'm afraid looking after the strong-willed is a thankless and frustrating role. I have the same problem with Sejuani. She's a menace to herself.'

Quinn says. 'It may be hard but that's no reason for us to stop.'

'Agreed.'

I can't suggest Volibear should abandon Sejuani so I hold my tongue.

While troublesome, Quinn's mate-guarding feels novel. Sejuani allows… no… _compels_ me to run wild. I'm unsure if it's an improvement. In better circumstances, I could enjoy Quinn's hypocrisy. This little prude yips when she comes, and likes to suck on my toes. A little fantasy never hurt anyone, and remembering Quinn at her least dignified is a good way to deal with her attitude.

She guides us to our vessel. 'Here she is.'

There's no way this boat is Demacian. It looks like a hundred ships cut up and reassembled as one. So many different woods make up the hull that it resembles an upside-down jester's hat. Alongside cannons are devices glowing with hextech and elemental power. Half a broken figurehead, like a stone fungus, decorates the bow. Maybe the rippling folds were the lower part of a dress? The masts are decked with metal spider legs that zig-zag upwards.

All these wonders the Freljord lacks… I have to use the lost wisdom of our civilisation to drag us into the modern age.

While I'm trying to make sense of the structure, Volibear reads, '" _The Siren_."'

'Excuse me?' I say. He gestures to a chrome plate. Through the colour clash, I make out a name. 'Oh, " _Syren_ " with a "Y". That's awful.'

'Yeah, I didn't name the bitch, all right?' A gaudy woman with a lion's mane of red curls approaches, her high heels tapping out a brisk rhythm. She wears a bodice that frames half a mile of cleavage. I suppose that outfit earns a few stares but I feel sexier as a woman, not a mannequin. She's imposing at first glance but I doubt she's any taller than Quinn, once you chop off the tricorn and silly boots. As we face off, it's apparent she's eyeing me just as critically.

We're cut from the same cloth, brazen youths driven to semi-respectable authority.

Luckily, this contender's not my type, even if I like her freckles and hair. Quinn's a secret redhead. I map the shade onto Quinn's bandana, only to feel a surge of displeasure when I see her gawping at the whore's breasts. I drift over to Quinn and pinch her bottom. She jumps with a blush loud enough to deafen Volibear.

The woman pushes her larger bosom towards mine and looks down as if I was a puddle she'd stepped in. 'Are you the Queen of the Freljord or cheap entertainment? I'm sure my boys can afford better than your squashed tits.'

Oh, sweet summer child, have you met my husband? If you think I'm easily scandalised, you've got another thing coming. 'I could earn twice as much with my thumb and forefinger than with your gaping holes.'

'That how you got those muscles?' The woman raises her pistols. 'Watch your mouth, kid. I've got shinier guns than you.'

She's got some nerve calling me that. I sense we're about the same age, and only one of us grew up in the Freljord. 'Ooh, nice toys. I bet you don't even feel them.' I get up in her face. 'Now are you going to piss any longer or shall we talk like adults?'

The woman snickers then tilts her head back with a loud, whooping laugh. 'I did wonder if you were a delicate snowflake or a brawling tribeswoman. Praise the kraken you've got some fire in your belly.' She holsters her guns and clasps my hand. 'I'm Captain Sarah Fortune, de facto leader of Bilgewater. Pleasure to meet you.'

'So Prince Jarvan isn't risking his own ship?'

'Like fuck, he would. I offered him all the booty in the world, including mine, but he wouldn't lift a finger to pick his nose.'

Ah, Jarvan's "aid" is throwing us and Bilgewater together. 'Why did you want his help?'

'I'm paying the Shadow Isles a friendly visit,' she says. 'That cursed shithole comes calling every time a sailor belches. We'd fought off an invasion, only for this pale storm to blow through. I _think_ it's harvesting corpses? I don't know how else to describe it.'

'I presume it's doing more if you've travelled all this way.'

'The world ain't so big when you live in a cabin rather than a cave but you're not wrong. Wind's rotting our buildings and land, sickening our people, killing some. Yeah, we've had worse, but we've had enough, so I'm going after them.'

Volibear shakes his head as if to say he doesn't recognise the phenomenon. I ask Sarah, 'Have you any experience fighting undead?'

'Yeah, we've wasted plenty of time doing that in Bilgewater. We need a priest, a paladin, or a mage of the right school. I know Demacia have the Crownguards and that winged celestial. Jarvan claims he's got no control over her, convenient. Also, he reckons Lux isn't a mage. Fuck off. You can buy two-bit Zaun devices that say otherwise. He might fool his own serfs, but no one else.' Quinn fidgets at the mention of her prior status.

I ask, 'What about _your_ allies?'

'We've got Illaoi back home but she's our only spiritual defence. If I brought her…'

'You'd have nothing to come back to.'

'You got it. And Illaoi's a thin reed for such a fat bitch. I wouldn't risk leading her to a place of dark energy. She might… I don't know… channel her god into the void or whatever.' Sarah flicks her wrist.

Volibear says, 'You're not far wrong. If Nagakabouros controlled the passage between life and death, it would unleash its test upon us all. The failures would reincarnate as plankton for the victors, who would grow with each turn of the wheel.'

I say, 'I'm surprised you don't approve.'

'There's a lot to admire in her espoused virtues but I disagree with her main principle. There is no test. We succeed and fail against each other, not some list of criteria.' The sermon rumbles on. Why did I start him off? 'The bounds of our struggle are in constant, undying flux. What your kraken priestess urges may sound like elevation of the strong. It is _not_ , only supplication to her god's rule.'

Volibear's act earns a round of applause from Sarah. 'Divine wisdom in a big, sexy hulk of a bear, that's what I'm after. Babe, you're a shaman, yes? Can you fight undead?'

'I'm Volibear, Chosen of the Storm, and yes, I can rend spirits… although my powers are as contingent as my patience for lewd remarks.'

'All work and no play, huh? So you'd rather load my cargo than keep my feet warm?'

'If it will hasten our departure, then gladly. Hard work is good for the soul.'

Sarah calls to her crew, 'Hey, Rafen! Have I got a present for you!'

Volibear nearly bounds, eager to do some heavy lifting. Sarah peers down her nose at Quinn. 'So you're Jarvan's contribution?'

'I guess?' replies Quinn. 'I'm…'

'The bird girl, yes I know. Sorry but you were dead last on my wish list. I'm sure you can identify berries and follow trails but I'm up to my waist in travel-stained rogues. I was hoping for someone _tastier_ like Garen.'

'At least I won't pretend I'm in charge of your boat.'

'See what I mean? Dull as a calm sea. We thought a Demacian acting up would have us all in stitches. You're no fun.'

'Sorry to disappoint you but I'm not here for anyone's pleasure.' Quinn glares at me when she says that. I'm unsure if that's a reprimand for pinching her or not following through.

'That much is obvious. I doubt you've been liable for half a cockstand.' A screech lifts our attention to the skies, where Valor is chasing seagulls. 'Ooh, is that your brother? He's a big boy.'

'He's my friend.'

'At least he'll keep our deck free of bird shit.' Suddenly mindful, she inspects her hat. 'I'll get your quarters ready, once our boarding ramp ain't full of cargo. Shouldn't leave pirates unsupervised for too long. You might want to stock up on lady-things, if barbarians and virgins bother. You're not having any of mine.'

Quinn blurts out the single worst response. 'I'm not a virgin!'

I expect everyone to fall silent and watch. Thankfully the Demacian locals are keeping a wide berth. Quinn's reputation is secure. Sarah bursts out laughing. 'I take it back. You might be fun after all!' She leaves me with a giant beetroot where Quinn once stood.

I reach for her shoulder. With an angry stomp, she hisses, 'Why did you pinch me?'

'Because you were staring.'

'I wasn't!'

'You were.'

'You're imagining things! And even if I was staring, you shouldn't go touching me _there_ when I can't so much as hug you or…' She looks away, her voice barely a whimper, 'Say that I hugged you.'

'Do you need a hug, now?'

'So you'll flaunt your body to strangers, but I get nothing unless I make a scene?' Quinn grabs my wrists. Her composure's in tatters. 'I thought something would change! If I could pay a large enough price… if I could be your hero then you'd have an excuse to… touch me once in a while. But I couldn't ever be your hero. You don't take me seriously. No one does.'

Her strength is intoxicating. 'I do, Quinn…'

'You don't!' Her eyes flash and I feel my chest heave. 'You like me. I believe that much but I'm just a girl to you, something you can dote on and throw aside when it's convenient.'

I have to assert control. A trickle of annoyance at her self-pity becomes a flood. 'For all your grand gestures, you really don't trust me, do you?'

She blinks. 'Huh?'

'My life is at risk! Volibear's not an excuse. He'll tear me apart if I betray Sejuani. Do you think I'm lying?'

'You lied before.' Her grip relaxes. The squall is over. 'We both did.'

'I know.'

She sniffs. I think she was on the verge of tears. 'But Volibear seems okay.'

'He truly believes the greater good will be served by my death. I'm alive only because my bond with Sejuani prevents him from doing right. She may love that I'm awful, but he doesn't.'

'I can imagine,' she says with a reproachful smile. 'You're so brazen sometimes, and it drives me to distraction. You're the most attractive woman I've ever seen.'

'Oh, that's a lovely thing to hear.'

'But it would help if you covered up a little.'

'Quinn…' I pout, crossing my arms underneath my breasts.

'Yes, I know. It's my problem. You wouldn't bat an eyelid if I were dressed the same but...'

'Wouldn't I?'

She studies my face like an inquisitor glimpsing a truth.

A squeaky voice disturbs our argument. 'Ooh, there you are! I was hoping I'd catch you lovebirds!' I see Lux, waving her sceptre like a dancer's baton.

Quinn avoids eye contact. 'Oh no, what does she want?'

Lux beams at us with rank insincerity. While Jarvan and I were negotiating, she was a nightmare, bombarding us with trivial questions, leaping on discrepancies and shamelessly trying every lock within our grounds. She's brilliant, inquisitive and frustrated, a perilous combination.

I wonder what game she's playing. 'So you've caught us. I take it you saw everything in Jarvan's war room?'

'Of course, clever clogs. You messed up and Quinn saved you. She's full of surprises, don't you think?'

We both look at Quinn, who fidgets under the scrutiny. 'She is,' I concur. 'Good surprises.'

Quinn says nothing. Lux rolls her eyes. 'Ignorant as always, not even a "thank you". Cat's out of the bag, you know? Can't seduce the queen of the Freljord and act all shy.'

Quinn says, 'What do you want? Are you here to make fun of me because you've been grounded?' Lux opens her mouth wide in exaggerated offence. 'Lux was eager to join us, far too eager, so His Majesty put her on scrivener duty.'

Lux waves off the blow. 'Call him Jarvan. Everyone else does and you're his golden girl.'

'I'm in disgrace!'

'You're so not and you don't realise it.' Lux winks at me. 'Sorry to bore you with our gossip, Ashe. I came here to make a simple offer but you know Quinn. She's a prickly pear who has to cause trouble.'

I say, 'She's under enough pressure without your teasing.'

'I'm not teasing. I'm jealous! I thought _I'd_ been pushing boundaries only to see Quinn race ahead. I'm yesterday's news!'

'Whatever your intent, you're clearly distressing her. Get to the point.'

'Okie dokie. Thing is, I need some reagents. Apparently, the Shadow Isles have trees, grass and flowers growing in dead soil, forms of life without life. Anything in bloom could accelerate my… _our_ studies by decades!'

I'm no mage but it sounds like Jarvan's left hand is dabbling in necromancy. This may be useful if I have to blackmail him again. 'Why should I give you such an advantage?'

'I'm not asking you,' says Lux. 'I'm asking Quinn.'

She frowns. 'Why should I help you destroy us with your profane experiments if His Majesty's told you no?'

'Why not? You defied him to help Ashe.'

'I challenged him to save a life, a soul, a _nation_. You just want more power.'

'With more power, I could save people across Runeterra, fill the tummies of Demacians and overcome their idiot superstitions.' Lux spits the word "idiot" with uncharacteristic venom. 'But you'd rather sacrifice all for some barbarian you've never met, a woman who will either prolong a bloody conflict or steal Ashe away from you.'

Quinn says quietly, 'She was never mine.'

But for one night under the stars, I was truly hers. Quinn's denial crushes my spirit. I guess I've been doing the same to her. Maybe she's come to believe there was no meaning. I could remind her otherwise but I can't imagine a crueller kindness, better that she forget.

Lux arches her back and leans into Quinn's face. 'Then find someone who is.'

I nearly bite through my knuckles while Quinn refuses to hear the obvious. 'You think it's that easy? People like me don't exist in Demacia.'

'Neither do mages, apparently, but I'm standing right in front of you.' Lux reaches out for Quinn's jaw. 'Bring me flowers, and we can go on a date.'

'You… you can't be serious!' Quinn squirms. 'Do you think I'm so easily bought?'

'I worked with espionage. I know places where like-minded women gather, right under our feet. You'll never be alone.' Quinn's interest is plain to the world. 'You like that, sweetie? Go get some flowers and show me a good time. You'll thank me for the rest of your life.'

Quinn freezes. 'Wait. You're not selling yourself. You're buying me?'

'Have you seen the boys I date? You're totally my type, and I'm all about new experiences.'

'I'm a person, Lux, not an experience!'

'Aw, come on, I wouldn't be offering, if I weren't interested in _you_. Beneath the mousey farm girl is a fiery rebel, threatening princes and seducing queens. Tell me that isn't hot!'

When I see Lux reach for Quinn's waist, I nearly shout, 'You've made your offer. She hasn't accepted yet.'

Lux rounds on me. 'I'm sure Quinn is perfectly capable of telling me herself.'

Quinn says, 'I'm okay, both of you.'

'Good.' Lux's smile is all teeth and fury. 'Remember, if Ashe won't look after you, others will.'

I say flatly, 'That's reassuring.'

'Isn't it just? A shame, we never got to play together. I could have had Sejuani and Lissandra at your feet, if you'd only crossed your legs.'

I swallow my pride. She's not wrong. 'You spent a lot of time and effort on our civil war but I squandered everything. I'm sorry, Luxanna.'

She touches her face, a rare sign of unease. 'I accept your apology. You'd be amazed at how rarely I deserve one. But you've cost your people far more than you'll ever cost me.' Her eyes droop. I'm suddenly mindful that she wears a lot of makeup, and her hair's a different shade from Garen's. 'After Quinn's tattle-tale, I argued your case until my throat was raw. I believed uniting your country was more important than backing a good side and fighting a good war.' She spits when she's passionate. I was happier not knowing that. 'Ashe, why don't you just rout Sejuani before saving her? Your pretty-pony-winning-through-love story may not come true but otherwise you'll risk her turning nasty when she's all fighting fit.'

'She told me the same thing,' I say, 'But I can't give her everything she wants. We don't have that sort of relationship.'

'Lie to me then. I'm beginning to think you want your struggle to last forever, but there's always a path out of the darkness. You just have to follow the light.' She smacks her own hip and says to Quinn, 'I'm serious, totally, totally serious, cutie-pie. Don't feel you have to suffer.'

Quinn's guard is back up. 'I can pursue my own happiness.' The steel in her voice quickens my blood.

Lux giggles. 'Of course you can, silly. That's why Luxie-baby offered. Whatever happens, we need to play more often.' She turns to me. 'And as for you, sort your life out. I almost looked up to you, and I don't like being wrong.'

Since when did she look up to anyone? I'd only felt inadequate in her presence. 'It means a lot to hear that. You're a brilliant young woman. You never needed a role model.'

'We all need something bigger than ourselves.' Lux waves to me then blows a kiss to Quinn. 'Be safe, okay? Life's dull enough without you two.'

She goes. Quinn and I stand in awkward silence. I'm about to speak when she interrupts me. 'Don't say it.'

'Hmm?'

'You're telling me to give her what she wants.'

'I think you should.'

'Forget it. She's kept on a short leash for good reason.' Quinn lowers her voice. Lux must have eyes and ears everywhere. 'She's dangerous. There are no good mages in Demacia.'

'Then take hold of that leash. Your secrets are known. She has every advantage to lose.'

'Unless we give her to keys to the universe.'

'That's unlikely. The dead flowers may be valuable to her, but I think your confidence is what she truly needs.'

'Why?'

'Because you're another outsider with the power to shape history. She has to keep you close, even at her expense.' I allow my gaze to dwell on Quinn's body. 'As for her personal interest, she's made that clear enough.'

'I can barely talk to people, let alone shape history. And she doesn't find me attractive. She just wants to humiliate me.'

'Those aren't mutually exclusive.' I look at my hands and recall them on Sejuani's chest.

'What? How could you hurt someone you…?'

'Forget it.' She'll understand on her own or not at all, but I fear she has the seed. Otherwise, we may not have lain together. 'Why should _you_ feel embarrassed? She won't be half as insufferable once you've pinned her to the sheets and made her sing.'

'You don't seriously think I could...?'

'Yes, definitely.'

She studies me, as if following tracks in my mind. 'No, we're not giving Lux any more toys. Nothing good will come of that.'

'Okay,' I say brightly.

_The Syren_ is loaded. Quinn says, 'We're off. I was hoping we could be honest for longer.'

'We'll get our chances to be mad at each other. Don't worry.'

'I'm not mad at you, I'm just…'

'I think you are.' She doesn't answer. 'You've got every right after you've done so much.'

'I…'

'Remember that I can only disappoint you. Don't sell your soul for the dregs of mine. Queen or not, I'm too slight a woman to be shared amongst all. You can't water barren soil with your blood.'

'I'm a person, Ashe, not a stain on your conscience. My life is mine to risk. I believe in your mission. When I was afraid and alone, I found solace in your land. Other broken people of Demacia… no… _Runeterra_ deserve the same.' She closes the distance. 'Do you believe me?'

_You believe no one, as your heritage implores. I'm sorry._

'Of course, I believe you.'

Quinn senses my conflict. She draws nearer. 'Then what are you scared of, Ashe?'

_Everything_.

'Everything.'

An answer, both complete and evasive. Quinn withdraws. 'Even if you're scared, you make me feel braver than anything I've known. I just wish you could see that.'

Sarah calls, 'Yoohoo, ladies, come on! I'm sick of this place already.'

Pulling away from Quinn, I sprint for the boarding ramp. The waves bounce in time with my gut. As I lose my balance, I feel Quinn at my back, ready to catch and engulf me.

Volibear says, 'Keep walking, on all fours if you must.'

I grab onto his voice like it's a chain. Sejuani, I won't fall yet.


	9. Chapter 9

I'd imagined sun and spray caressing my skin as I swung through the rigging like a child at play.

Instead, I got sea-sick. Walking in a straight line is impossible. I can't enter communal areas without a round of applause greeting every success and failure.

There's so much I'm denied. I can't watch the waves and sky from above decks. In better circumstances, I'd have loved the cramped intimacy of my cabin, yet I can't risk sharing it. No more discussions with Quinn over bottles of wine or whiskey.

The things I would do for one simple chat. My outlets vanish one by one. I destroy them quicker than battle ever could.

And I'm on my period. As if my stomach wasn't cramping enough.

* * *

I lurch across the deck. Volibear sits cross-legged before the rising sun. He is firm, upright and immovable while the sea reduces my limbs to gelatine.

I collapse over the railing. He says, 'You are spoiling my view.'

'Sorry… accident. Are you meditating?'

'I _was_ , but if I were not open to diversion, I would have chosen a different spot.' His posture relaxes. 'On occasion, you must wait in place for the world to challenge you. Sometimes, activity conceals flight.' I hear a smile in his voice. 'A convenient excuse for many cowards, yet I remember those words clearer than a lot of "noble" wisdom.'

'You have to remain open to different ways of thinking.'

'Yes.' He watches me carefully. 'Before, I'd have questioned your belief in such, interesting. Is that a sign of your personal development, or a moral vacuum?'

'Both, and your conclusion says more about you.'

He chuckles. 'That is fair. I'll have to think on it.'

'You're in a good mood.'

'I am. We're making swift progress to a land where my skills are relevant, and I relish contemplating the sun. It is a storm defined by constancy rather than chaos, an intriguing paradox. And I love water. If only I could swim and find my way back without damaging the hull.'

'There must be a way. I'll ask Sarah to drop the biggest lifeboat.'

'Oh no, my recreation is unimportant, and I'd rather not endure her scrutiny.'

'She does like you.'

Volibear's fur stands on end. 'Yes, we get a lot of that from human women. It would appear that Ursine embody their masculine ideals without any of the sexual threat, so they feel free to celebrate our virtues.'

'You must be grateful Sejuani and I prefer women.'

'I don't have an opinion. If it makes you happier, then I'm glad. Otherwise, it isn't my place to comment. A few inappropriate remarks aren't a burden. I feel sorrier for the race that earns attention from your men.'

'Which race?' My heart sinks. 'Yordles?'

'If that is the case, I pray the void consumes us all.'

I laugh. 'You know something, Volibear?'

'What?'

'I'm glad we can speak like this.'

'I'd rather we didn't.' How disappointing. 'As it is, I'm only mortal and I need company like anyone. You're the sole person I can talk to right now. We share experiences, even if your perspective differs.'

'You have options. Quinn is a good listener.'

'She's too young, and far too swept up in everything. I doubt she considers more than a month ahead or gone.'

'You're being unfair,' but accurate, I silently concede. 'She has broader horizons than her countrymen.'

'I can believe that but I find her exhausting.'

'Showing your age?'

'Yes, even allowing for such, I'm hard on youth. When your benchmark is a great leader with insight beyond her years, others do fall short.' I treasure these moments when Volibear talks about Sejuani. However much I stumble, I know his love and esteem are eternal. 'When she's in full battledress and free of doubt, she looks ageless, rather than a sensitive girl of twenty-three short winters.'

Time freezes. My jaw rattles in a mockery of speech. 'I… t… twenty-three? She's… twenty-three?'

'Yes, her birth was an omen so the Winter's Claw made a point of recording… Ashe?'

I hear the thunk of tears bouncing off the deck. Rivers are pouring and I can't feel them. It's like an invisible knife has parted my ducts and I'm bleeding rather than crying. 'She… I… I never once… I thought we were the same age! Oh, Sejuani... my… little Sejuani… my poor little Sejuani!'

My past is torn up and rewritten. I no longer see my proud, implacable foe, my princess leading her armies, worshipping at my feet and weeping at my violation. I see a confused, lonely girl reaching out for my hand as we go to lessons, my poor little Sejuani.

For a moment, I think Volibear's going to shoulder me but no. 'She's not your child, Ashe. Whatever pain you've wrought is a debt between equals. You owe her that respect.'

'I know but…'

'You can't help feeling as you do,' Volibear says with quiet understanding. 'She's not my child either.'

'Don't say that. I'd rather hear you lie a thousand times than say that. Your devotion inspires me.'

'Then I question its worth. What use is a love that nourishes darkness?'

'That is my dilemma, not yours.'

'Perhaps it is neither of ours. Young or not, she has her own counsel.' The sun passes behind a cloud. 'You must know by now. The black wolf is her companion. Even before Sejuani fell to your charms, there were episodes where she'd only sleep and starve.'

'The Winter's Claw must really cherish her.'

'They do. She's no duellist. Anyone else with her disadvantages would have been usurped. What she lacks in vigour, she overcomes with endurance, intelligence and foresight. She can do more with a candle than I, a volcano.' He leans over the guardrail, as though straining for the lost warmth.

'Perhaps the darkness gives her strength. Maybe that's why she looks beyond herself.' It would explain her atrocities, though not excuse them. What pain could be worse than existence?

'I know she would be just as brilliant, and far happier, without it. Sejuani is not her illness.'

'Of course, but she pays a heavy price to be who she is. Try telling her _I'm_ not my demons. You won't get very far.'

'She may be right, regarding _you_.' Volibear looks away. His next words are a shameful admission. 'But I'm grateful your demons have bought us passage. Your part is over. The Shadow Isles will be _my_ proving.'

Resolve charges the air as he leaves. I say to the wind. 'You've proven yourself already, Volibear.'

He wheels to face me. 'Then why do we carve up the Freljord? Save your honeyed words for Quinn. I'd sooner have your opposition.'

I'd forgotten about his hearing. Every seed of my approval sows doubt in his mind. For the sake of our mission, we shouldn't get too close.

Perhaps I shouldn't get close to anyone. If only I could love my own company.


	10. Chapter 10

One great relief is that I have the privacy to masturbate after a month near people with heightened senses. I could have snuck a few minutes here and there but I don't like rushing. I like to fantasise. I like to feel warm. If I can't have a body, I need a blanket, an embrace of a kind.

I can escape the world. I can fix my problems, renew my devotion to Sejuani and sate my hunger for Quinn.

I picture them both. I imagine others taking responsibility for them, punishing my failings.

I direct a scene where Quinn becomes Jarvan's bride. She's lying on her back while Jarvan's lean, hairy buttocks pump between her spread thighs. Her fingers tremble upon his back. She doesn't care for his masculine form but she's getting fucked well and it feels good. She's the Queen of Demacia, fulfilling her duty by reaching orgasm, over and over, night after night.

I could never compete with my furtive, poisonous love.

As Jarvan rises on locked arms to drive deeper, Quinn's breasts are lost in a shadowy blur. She wouldn't let me see them so the fantasy flickers then disperses. Picturing them is a violation too far.

So I move on, changing places with Sejuani, giving her the life I had. She looks regal in my dress and her crystal helmet. She marries Tryndamere. For her, it is no different from collaring a slave.

It is the night of the wedding. Sejuani keeps it simple. She hoists her own skirt, ensures her comfort with a generous amount of wheel grease, then informs Tryndamere her pleasure is beyond his remit.

For a minute or so, the room is quiet, except for the slapping of skin and irregular breathing.

Sejuani says, 'Done?'

Both of them exchange satisfied glances, like they've discovered a quick way of peeling a hundred potatoes, or weeding a garden.

With no painful experience holding them back, Sejuani and Tryndamere co-operate on having efficient, regular sex. Eventually, they grow comfortable enough that instead of grease, they use oral. I'm aroused and appalled at how their mighty bodies complement each other, and at how beautiful Sejuani looks when she's performing fellatio. There's no way she'd willingly do it for my foul catharsis.

I'm desperate to believe that she can enjoy loveless mating, free of the hooks of emotion that compel her to suffer my appetite.

When she becomes pregnant, she relaxes into her new role, forsaking war and filling her days with gentle activity. She takes up woodwork and wondrous creatures leap from her mind's eye. They stand in a protective arc around her baby's cot.

Sejuani wears her helmet less and less before stashing it away for a new generation of warriors.

Time passes. Muscle relaxes into flesh, widening her bottom and thighs. Bathed in sunlight, she holds up old armour before a mirror, sighing at her new proportions. Graciously, she gives up on transcendence and becomes a stern yet wise mother to her clan.

Tryndamere finally knows joy. He spoils the kids rotten, and makes a fuss of Sejuani's matronly form. She's more flattered than she lets on, and rewards him for good behaviour. He cheerfully accepts any boon without pressure or complaint. Their coupling persists beyond that of many passionate lovers.

It is… contentment.

I gaze into the night, arms on top of my blanket. When did I stop? Was my fantasy how the story should have gone? It was a peaceful, imperfect world with moments of happiness. There wasn't a meddling wretch called Ashe, destroying everyone for "love".

Wanting a place to hide forever, I pull the bedclothes over my head. As I roll onto my front, I grind into the lumpy mattress, aching for release. There's no way I'm sleeping until I finish what I started. I push my knuckles beneath my crotch and silence my grunts with a pillow.

I have to be quick and ruthless. Dwelling on my twisted, erotic innerscape will destroy me.

Sejuani wants Ashe the conqueror, the marauder, clad in black armour, festooned with barbs. I crush her tribe under my heel. Dragging her naked through the mud, I vow to destroy her legacy. I stake her to the ground on all fours then invite the whole Freljord to fuck her senseless. The Winter's Wrath will be known as the Winter's Whore.

Leaning in, I kiss her neck and stroke her back. I relish every tell-tale flex of muscle. Her trunk ripples from each thrust and slap. I don't think I've known a body so tough yet overtly sexual. Her enormous bosom and hind are a pornographic ideal. She can take all the pounding I can give her.

She clamps her jaws, pretending she can't feel it. I whisper, my tongue lapping at her ear, that she will come, however much she resists. Eventually, she will beg for it. She may defy me now but when she's broken, she'll be safe and happy, because I'll be there to look after her… my poor little Sejuani.

My brain snaps.

I don't want to come. As the warmth grows, I tremble. I can't subdue the filth pulsing through my core. My teeth rip a hole in the pillow. Down sprays across the room. Falling onto my back, I stare into the void and see my reflection.

I scream.

* * *

Footsteps approach like rats running over a coffin. I've woken up everyone. Volibear shouts, 'Ashe? What's happening?'

I feel the sea churn as I crawl to the door. 'Sorry,' I mumble, as if my low voice could send the crew back to sleep. 'Nothing's wrong. It was just a nightmare.'

'Do you remember anything? We're close to the Shadow Isles. The veil is growing thin. Your nightmare could have been a vision.'

I have to lie. 'Sorry, Volibear, I can't.'

'Fine,' he says. 'I won't force you to recall it but your information could save lives.'

Or give him nightmares in turn. 'Okay.'

While Volibear disperses the crowd, I hear a softer voice. 'Um, Ashe?'

'Quinn?'

'Are you going to be all right? Would it help if I stayed?'

I shouldn't risk my failing virtue but I'm scared of being alone with my thoughts. 'I don't have much room but I can sleep on the floor if you…'

'Don't be silly. Give me two minutes and I'll fetch my covers.'

There was only one spare cabin. Volibear couldn't fit anywhere private, so he chose the hold, where few people bothered him. Quinn, to my surprise, refused any personal accommodation to bunk with the crew. Sarah contended a plain girl with a mule's kick would have a peaceful time, compared with the "lusty barbarian wench". I have a long way to go before people respect our culture.

Quinn returns. I hear the rustling of her clothes, and every motion of her tongue and lips. I hear them touch and separate, swallow and sigh. Everything feels closer in the dark.

Furniture scrapes. Items clatter. 'Are you sure there's enough room?'

'Yeah, I'm only small.' She nestles into her bedding with a little growl of contentment. 'Oh, this is nice. You can feel the waves better this way.'

'I'm sorry that we can't share but…'

'I know,' she says with enough gentle force to shift our conversation. 'Do you want to talk about your nightmare?' Not really but she chases me down. 'Was it about Sejuani?'

'Yes, I was torturing her, making her do things… and I was enjoying it.'

'So that's why you couldn't tell Volibear.' The silence grows heavy. 'Was it because of us?'

'No. While our affair clearly bothers her more than she lets on, I don't need _you_ to punish her.'

'Oh.' Quinn's disappointed.

'You give me cause for guilt in other ways. Our act isn't fair on you at all.'

'You're the one having nightmares.'

'I deserve them. Volibear doesn't know but I traumatised Sejuani, and she loves me for it.'

'How?'

Quinn, even a teenager like you must have some idea but you insist upon my humanity. 'That is for her to say. Forgive me if that sounds like an excuse but she's a proud woman. Just assume the worst.'

'Yet she loves you.'

'She does. I worry that I'll have to choose between accepting that love and keeping her safe. The further we go, the less I believe I can do both.'

'Can't _she_ make that choice? What if you're worth the risk?' She's persuading me to accept someone's loyalty, but it's not Sejuani's.

'I rarely feel that I'm worth it. If I could save her then…'

'We'll save her.'

'Thank you.' Conviction is dangerously potent when expressed by a Demacian. 'I once believed I could unite us all with love, understanding and determination. When I found Sejuani, my dream came true, but also real.'

'It was the same for me,' says Quinn. 'I dreamt of becoming a knight and rescuing some fair maiden.' We both giggle. 'I thought everything would work out if I tried enough to do the right thing. All I did was cause trouble.'

'That's not a bad thing. We all need some trouble in our lives.'

'Let's hope His Majesty feels the same. He's been really quiet since our argument.'

'He sounded remorseful, if anything.'

'Of course, he went out of his way to promote a common scout, and I made him look a fool.'

I knew it. Sejuani was right. 'You were chosen by Jarvan himself?'

'Yeah, no recommendations or anything. He just showed up at our lodge and um… I was bundled into his carriage.' She laughs. 'I was curled up on the seat away from his legs. If the space were made for two people, it wasn't made for him.'

'Did they put him on the rack as a child?'

'We sometimes wonder. He bombarded me with questions about my family, my personal situation. I felt like a suspect.'

She can't be this blind, surely. 'Erm… Quinn?'

'Yes?'

'I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer without any quibbling.'

'I… um… what is it?'

'If Jarvan proposed, what would you say?'

Quinn bounces off the floor, banging my desk so hard that I wince. 'Pro… proposed? As in…?'

'Queen of Demacia.'

'Me? But…'

'Yes, you.' Quinn sounds like she's gasping for air. I press on. 'Don't act like you haven't thought about it. You're free of politics, a national hero, someone with a common touch. Within Jarvan's entourage, you're the prime candidate. What would you say?'

'But I can't, I'd have to provide an heir and…'

'Are you sterile?'

'How could I possibly know?' says Quinn. 'But that isn't the point. I can't sleep with a man. I can't have kids, ever.'

'Would you give your life for Demacia?'

'Of course!'

'Then how is this asking any more of you?'

'Because I'd rather die as me than live as someone else.'

'We change from day to day, Quinn. I've been so many people that I'm a stranger to myself,' or I've become too familiar. 'What if by changing yourself, you could change Demacia?'

'Change Demacia? How?'

'You tell me.'

'Well…' I hear her scratching. 'I'd want fairer taxes for small farmers. The flat rate is meant to reward hard work. In practice, the big farms gobble up the rest and abuse their privilege.'

'You speak from experience?'

'My family survive through goodwill but there's little future in that. Only so many times a neighbour will buy from you if it costs their child a new pair of shoes.'

'Okay, that's one thing. What else?'

Quinn grows in confidence. 'I'd repeal the sodomy laws. Inverted women don't exist, apparently, but if we can spare the men from castration and imprisonment, we could save lives, and gather support for our own cause.'

'Go on.'

She's in full flow. 'I'd replace conscription with national service. Everyone gets training and we'd have a more realistic idea of our standing army. We lose battles, left, right and centre because we think every peasant under twenty-five can swing a club.'

'If it would achieve all that, would you have children?'

Quinn chokes. 'I… I don't know. Maybe?' I think she's crying. 'I'm scared. It will hurt, and I'm still young and…'

'You're an adult. Even if you don't feel like one, people will expect you to fill that role.'

'But why are _you_ saying all this? You of all people should understand!'

'I do, which is why I'm telling you to prepare yourself before it's too late. Other people will come at you with the same arguments I have. You need answers, not mine, not Jarvan's, but your _own_.'

'But I have an answer, it's…'

'You hesitated. When confronted with all you could achieve by saying "yes", you nearly folded. If you don't weigh your priorities, you will be defenceless, and you will be forced into a choice between compliance and oblivion. I was reckless enough to choose both. You saw where that led.'

'Okay.' She gathers her will. 'Queen of Demacia, do you really see that?'

'I think you'd go down in history, the brave little farm girl, earning recognition through grace of heart and force of arms. You'd be an inspiration.'

'Would I be selfish to walk away?'

'Not if there's a good reason. I made a lot of mistakes being "selfless".'

'Well, I'm glad I was one of them.' I can hear her smile. 'How did we end up discussing my marriage prospects when you're the one who's upset?'

'You've answered your own question. I'm going to sleep. Thank you for being here, and I'm sorry for giving you cause to worry.'

'Don't apologise. You were my first love, Ashe. I've missed you so much.'

'I missed you too, Quinn. So long as I'm not your last, I'm happy to be your first.'

'Ashe?'

'Hmm?'

'Can I hold your hand?'

'…Yes.'

Reaching out, she touches my knee by mistake. Her nails brush the sensitive rise of my lower thigh before sliding across my palm. She crushes my hand. I picture my body falling over into her tireless grip until I slip away.

* * *

After a beautiful, dreamless night, a voice urges me to wake. 'Ashe?'

I hear Quinn but I can't respond. I'm drunk on stasis.

I feel the blanket around my waist, her gaze upon my bare chest.

'You're like a painting.' Respectful touches draw the covers to my neck. 'I don't like the thought of you having nightmares when you look so peaceful. You never seem at ease. I'd feel better knowing you had some respite.'

She plays with my hair, sketching little patterns across my cheek.

'Sorry for tempting you again but…' her lips rest on mine. She places her offering and retreats without further claim. 'I never got a chance to kiss you goodbye when I first left your palace, and I may never get a chance again, so… goodbye.'

Quinn leaves with a tiny piece of my soul. I'm breathless like a fish on dry land. I have to let her go but all I want is my little piece back.

I can't have everything, so I grieve.


	11. Chapter 11

After my screaming fit, I'd prepared for mockery from Sarah's crew but the mood was disturbingly sombre.

The skies are grey. The sun is bleached of radiance. Above, the sails droop like rotting flaps of skin. Without wind or rain, I can't feel the change from below decks to fresh air. The great outdoors are a lifeless prison.

Everyone's constantly moving, as if to shake off the claustrophobia. Sarah prowls the stern, watching yellow smoke emerge from a dull metal chimney. The smell is weak. I fear my senses are fading with the world.

Even Sarah's banter sounds tired. 'You're a marvel. The sea's flat as a board and you're still wobbly.' Her hair is clearly damaged. There are cracks in her façade.

'At least I can provide some entertainment after waking you all up. Sorry for the disturbance.'

'Don't worry about it. Everyone's on edge. I couldn't sleep either.' She rubs her eyes. They're shot through with blood. 'Sole reason I'm upright is because of this damn engine. I can't relax when it's on.'

'What is it?'

'Some weird Zaun bullshit. You chuck anything inside and it unravels the…' She waves. 'Pfft, I don't know. Point is, you feed it, we move. If you want to go quick, you feed it corpses.'

'How did you…?'

'People fight us. We chop 'em, salt 'em and serve 'em. Don't act all innocent. You'd have tried it as well.'

'I've organised enough pyres.' The moral high ground seems very distant. 'How close are we?'

'Four days without wind. From past experience, we've got enough juice to limp ashore, but if the Shadow Isles aren't full of bodies, we'll be stranded.' She shrugs. 'I'm pretty hopeful.'

'And if there's nothing?'

'We draw lots, or pray that we get struck by lightning.'

'Volibear could help with that.' I wish I knew more about engines. 'What uses lightning?'

'I've got an experimental thruster that runs off it. We can escape anything when it's fully primed. Obviously, there's a catch.'

'Is it worse than feeding someone to the Zaun furnace?'

'Kind of. The thruster shakes the hull to pieces. Only worth the risk if you can feel death's hand on your thigh.'

The sea watches like a sleeping dragon. 'At least we'd all sink or swim together.'

'Not my style, babe. Also, the coils disintegrate anyone stupid enough to go near. Maybe the holy storm or whatnot will protect Voli, but you know his powers better than I do.'

'He can regenerate. If there are limits, I'd rather not see them.'

'It's all good. I'm sure our destination is a graveyard.' We hear laughter from below. Sarah cocks an eyebrow then looks over the railing. 'Someone's cheerful.'

I stare hard enough that my nerves twinge. A group of deckhands are chatting with a… confidently dressed young woman. Quinn is wearing a _bodice_. I can spy the top of her breasts. A pretty mole crowns one fair slope. Her tight leggings are on display to the world without her cloak to hide them. I think the deckhands are complimenting her. She flutters her eyes and sways her hips. I'm stunned.

Sarah brightens. 'Our little Demacian's come out of her shell. Can't say I blame her, growing up in a puritanical shithole. I hope she bangs everyone. It'll do wonders for morale.'

I feel betrayed. Quinn and I had shared all except her natural hair colour and chest. I'd accepted her boundaries with grace. Now she's flaunting herself to men.

Is this revenge?

Sarah prods me. 'You're getting ideas, aren't you? By the kraken, if a bit of boob's all it takes for you to jump ship, I'd have worn a higher top.'

I gather my composure. 'Where did she get that from?'

'You have to ask? She came to me for advice.'

'Quinn spoke to _you_?'

'Like you barbarians know anything about fashion. Quinn's fit as a fiddle, so all she has to do is wear clothes that fit.' She chuckles at her own wordplay. 'When I told her that, she got flustered. Apparently, she wanted to feel more like a woman.'

'She is a woman.'

'Yeah, go on. Say the right things if you must. We both know she looks like a boy.'

'She's too pretty.'

Sarah looks at me with suspicion. 'Boys are pretty. Did you seriously think she was a girl when you first saw her?'

'…No.' Please don't ask if I found her attractive because of that. Every answer would incriminate me.

'Well then, easiest fix was to get her tits out. She wouldn't change in front of me, so I dug out something adjustable and showed her the laces. I'm glad she went through with it. She's a nice girl, down to earth, popular with the crew, still don't think she'll be much use battling wraiths but we got Volibear for that.'

'She told me she hated her breasts.'

'Really? Didn't think you were close enough to share that kind of thing.' Sarah's far too curious about our relationship. I hope she's digging for sport, rather than advantage.

'Weren't you two swapping clothes? There's a lot she can tell us that she can't tell other Demacians.'

'Point taken.'

'Either way, that's a huge leap for Quinn. I don't know what to make of it.'

'Ah… they grow up so fast.' Sarah's eyes flicker. 'You got any kids, Ashe?'

'No, sadly.'

'Barren?'

'It's complicated.'

'I'm surprised. You're Queen, right? Shouldn't you provide an heir before gallivanting off to the Shadow Isles?'

'Yes.' I recall Sejuani's threat of endless war should I bear someone else's child. She has a very poor grasp of her own jealousy. There's no spectrum. She claims total indifference to my affairs and expresses all-consuming rage at a dynastical obligation. We're both aware that our bloodlines have to continue but we don't have a solution.

Regardless of how things resolve, I'd love to see her kids one day. Perhaps I'm foolish, advancing motherhood as an easy cure for Sejuani's tangled psyche, but I need fragments of hope.

I feel Sarah's anticipation. Sorry but I'll have to deflect. 'What about you?'

'Kind of.'

'What?'

'Well, you got nothing to do with Bilgewater, so… yeah, I've got a daughter, somewhere.' She grips the railing with both hands. 'When I was young, I took full advantage of my body. Sex and vengeance were my reasons to live. You suck off a merchant, you get a discount on hextech rounds and another bounty. Soon, I had a rep as a good shot and a good fuck. Life was bearable… until I missed a period.'

'I think we've all been reckless.'

'I was more than reckless. I was in total denial. "Oh, _I_ can't be knocked up. I got no time! I gotta do this. I gotta do that." Thought if I carried on, like I weren't expecting, it would fix itself, that I'd eat uncooked shrimp and shit everything out… what a fucking idiot.

'Once I came to my senses, I got really scared. I locked myself in a room, thinking if I stayed in one place… if I didn't see the sun rise… then time would stop. I blacked out all the windows, rammed little bits of cork into my lugholes to silence everyone passing. You know, hawkers telling you it's morning, whores telling you it's night. You're supposed to feel this rainbow of emotion but all I felt was dread. I wasn't even hungry, like, how's that supposed to work?'

'I guess it's different for all of us.'

'Yeah, but you'd think there'd be some things in common. Eventually, I… er… can't remember the…' She covers her face. 'No… _I_ can. It's my _body_ that doesn't remember. After all that pain and pressure, my back should be at a right angle and my snatch, wide as a cannonball. When I look over my skinny waist and feel my hipbones, I wonder if it was all a dream. Everything works. A whole year of my life was just a nightmare from which I got up.'

'What happened to your daughter?'

'When she was born, I felt a kind of peace, like all my bounty-hunting instincts came rushing back. I knew exactly what to do. I never touched her skin with mine. I didn't say anything. I didn't give her a name. Once I'd recovered, I left her at an orphanage and it was over. She came into the world, wept and vanished like a summer storm, so many lives told in one.'

'Do you know if she's…?'

'Alive? No, too dangerous. I can't afford any weaknesses.'

I hold my tongue to give her space but the lifeless atmosphere is too grim to bear. 'Do you think about her?'

'Not really. She was a terrible mistake, and she's better off with people who think otherwise.'

'Perhaps one day, you'll be…'

'No, the tale ended seven years ago. There's no follow up. If we laid eyes on each other, we'd walk on by. She wouldn't see her mother.'

'Seven years…' I can't imagine having a child that grown. 'How old are you, Sarah?'

'Depends on who's asking. If we're not likely to fuck, I'm twenty-six.'

'You're the same age as me, and you were Quinn's age when…' I can't finish the sentence.

'I guess. That how old she is? I thought she was twelve. You can do maths, right?'

I kick at Sarah's heels. Quinn is talking to yet another group of men. I stare until she notices. There's a break in their conversation while she watches me with blank intensity. Her admirers glimpse their fearsome captain and run for their lives.

How should I react? Why is Quinn doing this? After a tense moment, she waves, an awkward, sad little gesture, then leaps onto the rigging. She has long legs for her small body. Her muscles coil and extend all the way to the crow's nest.

I realise what she was waiting for, my hesitation, proof that I'm considering every move because of her.

Sarah frowns. 'What was that all about? "Look at me, big sis!" Are you leading her astray?'

'Perhaps.'

'Right on, babe. We'll corrupt all of Demacia before we're chased out of town.'

'Assuming we survive.'

'Gotta plan for tomorrow. Never know when it will come.'

'You're right.' We can't always trust we'll have an early grave in which to hide. 'Sorry for bringing you down.'

'You didn't. I rarely get a chance to level, so I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy.' She rests her cheek on her palm. 'I think you had it worse. Can't be fun hearing about someone who gave up their kid like it was nothing.'

'You shouldn't have to change your feelings to spare mine.'

'Goes both ways. You can be pissed off. I can take it.'

'Thanks.' I believe her. 'You're a good woman, Sarah.'

'Why? For being civil when nothing's at stake?' She turns up her nose. 'I'm a heartless bitch otherwise, don't you forget it. Only reason I'm being sweet is because I got something in return. A sympathetic ear's worth more than gold in Bilgewater.'

'Then all you have to do is keep finding reasons to be sweet.'

'You don't ask for much. What are yours then? Destiny, power, love?'

'Power makes me cruel, and love makes me crueller still. As for destiny, perhaps I'm a rock in destiny's river, blocking all progress until I'm cast aside.'

'Eh, the world's a messed up place. If you go blaming yourself, you won't change what you can,' she says. 'Every chapter of my life consists of me getting five big things wrong and a hundred little things right. You don't lose it all by getting pregnant. You lose it all by not oiling your guns, locking your room or cooking your fish right.'

'If we succeed, I might achieve the impossible and ruin everything else.'

'You left some bodies in your wake?'

'We'll see.' Quinn, Volibear and I have all crossed our own. We may not suffer but our lives will never be the same. 'Perhaps I'll restring and wax my bow, make a start on those little things.'

'Sounds like a plan.' Sarah gives my hip a firm smack. 'Whatever happens, I've enjoyed our little chats. Even if you keep staring at my tits.'

'You wish.' I have trouble taking them seriously.

'Only kidding. You're into little boys.' Winking, Sarah points upwards. 'You bunk up last night? Would explain why she's all frisky today.'

'Leave her alone.'

'Ain't her I'm winding up.' Sarah leaves with a twirl and shimmy. Halfway across the deck, she calls out, 'You should fuck her brains out while you've got the chance! Die with no regrets!'

'I'd rather lay her than you!'

Sarah bursts out laughing and retires to her cabin.


	12. Chapter 12

The Shadow Isles defied expectation. I'd imagined endless night, and the clammy, cold air of a newly dug autumn grave. The sun rises just like anywhere else, bathing the dry, broken trees in fossil grey. Breathing is difficult, every lungful shorn of moisture. My hands are like weather-blasted outcroppings, with deep lines bleeding sand.

Am I now cursed? Is this undeath?

No, my response to a limber Quinn, bouncing from calf to calf in joyful indulgence of her body, confirms I'm very much alive.

While most of us are fading, Volibear and Quinn are vibrant. I'm unsure if they're driven by heroism or reckless abandon. Valor circles above, relaxed as ever. Free from our cares, he might prove a decent lodestone.

As I descend the boarding ramp like an invalid, a blow from behind knocks the wind out of me. The ground rushes up. I blink away dust, while the person responsible lies off to the side in a cloud of risen clay. Sarah grins an apology. 'Damn, girlfriend, you look as bad as I feel.'

'Was this a mistake?'

'Yeah, probably.'

Volibear pulls us to our feet. He forces me to look into his glowing eyes until I go blind with colour, then does the same to Sarah. His conclusion is bleak. 'Your souls are coming untethered. You should remain in case the worst happens.'

I find strength in defiance. 'We're in this together.'

'Your vulnerability will slow us down.'

'Or work as bait. If you truly believe I'll jeopardise our mission, you'll have to strike me dead.'

Volibear sounds tempted. 'As you will.' He relents, for now.

Sarah brandishes her guns. 'Count me in. I'll find the sodden bastard who's terrorising Bilgewater if it kills me.'

'They'll do more than kill you,' says Volibear. 'Can your first mate get us back safely?'

'Do you think I'd employ him otherwise?'

'There are many fools in high places, but if you speak the truth, then do as you please. I needn't risk anyone to save you.'

'Cold.' Sarah gives a lewd whistle. 'I love it. You getting ready for some carnage, big boy?'

'I'll fight anyone to the death but we're at a disadvantage here. Force will not sway Kalista.'

We're stuck with our one, hitherto unspoken, plan. I reveal it. 'So we're negotiating from a position of weakness, and all we can offer is ourselves.'

'Indeed,' says Volibear without inflection.

The trees resemble gallows. Many have empty nooses, offering a home to the weary. Quinn darts under them, shadowing Valor's route. She canters from bare knoll to broken wall as if running through the pastures of home. I nudge Volibear. 'How safe is Quinn?'

'I'm unsure. There's no apparent cause for her resilience, unless you know something I don't.'

Was our affair traumatic enough to weigh down her soul? How does this work? 'What about losing her twin brother?'

'Unlikely.'

'Demacian zeal?'

'She's not a paladin.'

Sarah blows out her cheeks. 'You don't question fortune, you seize her. So Quinn's useful rather than a liability? Great. Why don't we follow her lead if we can't think of a direction?'

We head after Quinn, using Valor to track her position. I ask Volibear, 'What about him?'

'Borderline sentient, he barely registers. I doubt any hungry spirits will pay attention.'

How sad, Quinn's best friend is just another bird. 'I always thought there was more to him.'

'You needn't be so hasty. There are mysteries hidden from us all, and Valor may be one of them. I would sooner believe Quinn's judgement over mine.'

I could have embraced him after that. 'Thank you, Volibear.'

'We all need hope, Ashe, however distant.'

As we draw near, Quinn and Valor are deep in communion. Valor squawks and files away. Quinn chews on her lip. 'There's a rose garden, half a mile south.' We both remember Lux's offer.

I ask, 'Any settlements or clearings?'

'Everything's a blur to the west. Valor can't see anything.'

'A spell?'

Volibear says, 'Or a boundary.'

Sarah grunts while she corrects her posture. That affected swagger's weighing her down. 'Sailing into the void without a map ain't wise. If a monster's dull enough to grow for a hobby, they might bore us before eating us, while whatever's deeper may nosh down without foreplay.'

Volibear concurs. 'I'd have expressed it with less colour but, yes, we should investigate. Well done, Quinn.'

She bows her head. 'It was all Valor.'

Sarah gives Quinn a friendly but forceful smack, knocking her upright. 'Seriously, be grateful when people compliment you.'

Quinn grumbles her thanks, but Volibear's too busy taking charge to notice. 'I'll go first. Ashe and Sarah, keep three paces back and your weapons drawn. Quinn, you're the rearguard.'

As we fall into line, Quinn touches my arm. 'Don't,' she says.

'Don't what?'

'You know. Pick any flowers.'

Sarah hears our conversation. 'Is that something Ashe does? Kinky. Did she pick your flower, baby girl?'

Please don't put ideas into Volibear's head. 'You can save the jokes for the celebration afterwards.'

'Ooh, if you insist. I can't wait.'

* * *

Our march is arduous. The tough ground answers every step with a hammer blow. Volibear moves carefully, not walking any faster than I can hobble. He knows better than to complain without a solution but I think he'll suggest a parting of ways at the next opportunity.

Quinn ducks and dives too much. Her feral aspect is emerging. Every time she picks up a trail, I worry that she'll disappear for good.

Valor swoops and almost floors me with the down-blast from his wings. He pulls Quinn away. She raps three times on a trunk, a signal to stop.

We huddle. Volibear opens the discussion. 'What is it?'

Quinn recites, 'Eighty yards, eleven o'clock, Valor saw a humanoid figure dressed in black, heading to the rose garden. Fifteen seconds later, the figure vanished.'

'All right,' says Volibear. 'We should remain close.'

I object. 'Robes indicate a mage. If one spell hits us all, we're doomed.'

'Fair point. Should I go myself?'

'You're too valuable. I'm our bait, remember?'

'Not so fast. Even if you can't fight, you know two spells. I've taken your crystal arrow to the snout enough times.' What can I say? He's a good target. 'If we're sending our weakest, I'm afraid that's Sarah.'

She bristles. 'Don't even think about it. I bait others, not myself.'

Quinn says, 'I'll go.' We all face her. 'I've no magic and I'm fast enough to dodge anything.'

How much is she going to sacrifice before this ends? I have to talk some sense into her. 'We have goals worth dying for, Quinn. You don't. If you make every battle yours then…'

'I'm part of your mission. Do you think every soldier has a personal stake in their campaign? I've trained for this. Let me do my job.'

'You're here as Demacia's representative, not a hireling.'

'I'm here as your friend!'

'Which is why I can't…'

Sarah groans. 'I get it. You're in love, but we have to make a decision. Volibear?'

Please ignore Sarah's quip. I can't die just yet. After pondering our course, he says, 'I'm thinking we should have brought Udyr but, failing that, I believe Quinn is right.'

'Thank you,' says Quinn. She loosens her joints. 'Listen out for Valor. He'll caw if I'm safe, and screech if I'm under attack.'

I say, 'if you take any longer than three minutes, I'll conjure my hawk spirit and look for you. Stay safe.'

'And you.' Quinn scurries ahead.

I'm still nervous about Sarah's comment, so I bury my gaze into the sky. Did Avarosa feel the same weakness while posing for her statues? I wonder if her fantasies were as dark as mine.

_To me, they were not dark, only sad._

You're here?

_Not for long. Your allies are sturdy, but they are a danger to themselves._

What do you mean?

_I fear the cost as I pray for your success, my child._

Valor screeches. I project my hawk spirit through the garden. Perception blurs. Two pairs of eyes become one. I strain to follow Quinn's backflips. Explosions of negative energy leave ash in her wake. I glimpse wide pauldrons beneath a sceptre, held aloft in a skeletal grip.

'A lich,' I hiss. 'Everyone, keep your distance and watch your feet.'

Volibear drops onto his forelegs. 'I'm ready to pounce if you land your crystal arrow.'

'I'd rather save it for Kalista. We'll talk first, flee _then_ fight if we must.'

'All right.' He crashes through the trees, on his way to flank our opponent. I'm grateful that Volibear still follows my direction. He was clearly disappointed with my call.

Sarah lifts her guns like an amputee displaying war wounds. 'I got a few rounds of hextech shot, enough to make a spirit sneeze, I guess, but…' She lowers the brim of her tricorn. 'I've won enough games with a poor hand.'

'I bet. See you on the other side.'

* * *

I'm last on to the field. Sarah must have been pushing herself where I was careful. She moves recklessly on those heels.

The rose garden is arranged with care, but the flowers are the light, sickly shade of corpse-flesh. Winding around their bases are pebble-strewn paths, arranged in looping figures of eight. Above the central cluster, floats our enemy.

The lich is resplendent with pallor as he wields his sceptre like a paintbrush. His eyes glow beneath a tall mitre. Quinn is tense, ready to leap aside. As we emerge, the lich ceases attacking and regards us with leisurely confidence. 'Ah…' His voice is deep and sonorous. He relishes each word like a poet. 'Forgive my welcome. I suspected your little scout was not alone so I forced your hand with a prelude of _sturm und drang_.' He bows. 'I am Karthus.'

If the lich wants to talk instead of putrefying us, who am I to object? 'Well met, I am…'

'Oh, I'm familiar with most of you, Volibear, nursemaid of the storm, unaware of his true role, Ashe, the mortal who sees the future in a past she will never comprehend, Sarah Fortune, a careless woman pressed into caring.' He clicks an absent tongue. 'Few people are born, well-suited for this travesty called life, Captain. You started off as one of them but she who giveth also taketh it…'

Sarah punctures the sermon. '"She"?'

Karthus doesn't miss a beat, adapting like a musician to resolve dissonance. 'Of course, life is a mother, and a harlot naming her price, like you.' Sarah clams up. She's not inviting an explanation for that simile. 'No response? Your trials have blunted your famous wit.'

'You think all your hot air deserves a comeback?' While Sarah likely has one, she's eager to change the subject of her being a mother.

'I am death, and I have no comeback.' He addresses Quinn, 'You are but a shadow to me, golden girl. Mayhap your soul is of no consequence, or mayhap you are chaos walking. A blank slate is a powerful gift, wasted on Demacia, but you have already begun to spread your wings… interesting. What is your name, golden girl?'

'Quinn,' she says, with more boldness than I feel.

'Exquisite, a name with no sex or lineage. You share traits with a numbered woman from Piltover but your mystery hides within a plain costume.'

As the conversation goes on, I look for opportunities. Karthus enjoys an audience. We can use this. 'What else do you know?'

'More and less than you'd think. I hear of world affairs. Too many spirits are noisy before accepting salvation, but I'm rarely graced with the means to challenge their claims. I've given up on understanding your Freljord, such a tangled web of delusion. Your toxin runs deep and your enemies are no better.'

'My faults are many but I'm doing what I can.'

'By prolonging your civil war, collaborating with Ursine, forsaking your people… yes, you're doing as well as you can,' he says. 'Death is your only true salvation but you're not one for taking advice.'

I flatter him. 'You know me too well. How come?'

'When I crossed over, time and entropy lost all bearing. Meanwhile, you walk through the past and what is to come. We've crossed paths, trust me.' Karthus hums a passage from a strange, wandering aria. 'But we digress. What are you doing here? This is no place for the living.'

'I'm looking for Kalista. She has the soul of a woman I love.'

Karthus roars with laughter. The wet shrieking is unbearable. Quinn's head vanishes beneath her shoulders. Blood glistens from Volibear's ears. My dull human senses are a mercy.

His outburst finished, Karthus wipes an imaginary tear. 'You're here to bloody Kalista's beak? Oh my! That insufferable, artless crow deserves it. All that intelligence and ability wasted on a vulgar mathematician.' His voice lowers with contempt. 'She has the same elevation as I do but refuses to see more than two minus two becoming zero. The smug fool rejoices in answering a stupid, simple question, over and over… like a dog eating and unspooling one beloved whip of excrement.'

I can't believe my luck. 'So you'll help us?'

'Oh, I can't "help" you. Kalista holds a grudge and she's miserable enough already, but I can spare your lives and unveil the path.'

'Is there a catch?'

'You mortals and your games, everyone joins my kingdom eventually. The "catch", if you need one, is that she will cast aside your fleshy prisons like rags when you come to blows, and I will be there to collect your souls.'

'Encouraging.'

I'll have to pay Kalista's toll. I deserve no less, and I may live to see the Freljord whole before crossing over, but is my sacrifice really for the best? I know Sejuani wouldn't approve. Looking at Volibear, I wonder if…

No, he's blameless. I can't allow him to bear the cost of our possible relationship. The price is eternal but love can perish. I doubt Sejuani could rest easy knowing Volibear suffered. If my princess and I can't share an afterlife, we'll cherish the days we have.

The silence drags while we process the coming trial. An impatient Sarah fires a round into the sky. 'Yoohoo, Karthus! I'm glad you're helping Ashe but I've got a bone to pick with the Shadow Isles.'

Karthus lazily descends. 'Of course you do, my Captain, because you don't understand. I've been liberating your dead. Suppose you fell before claiming revenge. Would you know peace without a guide?'

'You fucking hypocrite. You're killing as many people as you "save"!'

'What is that unsightly phrase about omelettes and eggs? I lived off rats when I was mortal.' He strokes his chin. 'Still, I might have been too zealous. When I first ascended, full of music and optimism, I freed everyone before their time. All I did was unite enemies and inspire a new generation of paladins, awful creatures.'

'You'll have to deal with worse if you push Bilgewater.'

'Certainly not, your sails are better set on putting your _boat_ in order. Then I'll have no stake in your affairs.' He plucks a rose to admire the petals. 'I'll grant you this. My work should feel more… natural. People never question blighted lands after a slaughter. That you're here means I've gone too far.' He mutters like an artist hearing unwanted feedback. 'So be it, I'll give your trapped souls time enough to fester. They'll know who to thank, believe me.'

'The dead are none of my business. I don't care what you tell them so long as you fuck off.'

'Then you cede responsibility for most of your demesne. If you're tired of death's march, you should write your own anthem. Civilise Bilgewater so your vassals outnumber the lost and we'll turn our gaze elsewhere.'

'Civilise? You're asking _me_ to civilise Bilgewater?' She spits in the nearest bush.

'Life isn't fair, my Captain, but if you can't think of an opening theme, try penning a dirge for Illaoi.'

Sarah's brow deepens. 'The one person who's keeping your mist from our shores? How convenient.'

'She's working against you. So long as Illaoi draws breath, you will never control Bilgewater. Thresh and Hecarim will hear the cries of anguish and warfare. The dead will cry for my beautiful song.'

'I know when I'm being played, lich.'

'You dance to her plodding rhythm because you're too quick to believe in cold, rational cruelty. Illaoi may declare herself beyond good and evil but she's a woman first and a prophet second.'

I see his point and interject. 'I've been called a queen, a goddess and a conqueror but when others forget I'm a person, I'm deadlier than all three.'

Sarah nods. 'I'll take it from _you_.' Her fingers dance upon her guns. 'Our Truthbearer's got a few secrets. I know she bumped uglies with Gangplank a while back.' She glares at Karthus. 'And you can shove that rotten grin of yours. I won't simply kill her so you can roll us, not when I can use her.'

Karthus remains unflappable. 'Dance with the devil if you must. I'll be there to commiserate if you stumble.'

'Huzzah.' Sarah looks around. 'I'm done if you guys are. Not all I was hoping for but I'm still in one piece.'

We're off to Kalista then. Volibear asks, 'Will our group survive the landscape?'

I feel a chill as Karthus looks over me, Quinn and Sarah. 'Hmm, I can't say. The golden girl has a bright flame but Ashe and Captain Fortune have no guarantees.' Why does Sarah get a title?

Volibear smacks his paws together. 'It is what it is. Ashe, I trust you're coming,'

'Yes.'

He doesn't argue. 'Quinn, we have directions. You needn't risk yourself to guide us.'

Quinn roars. 'I'm going all the way!' then flinches at her double-entendre. She's incurably teenage and awkward, even at her boldest.

'I respect your devotion but your country may need you to fall elsewhere.'

'My homeland is an ideal, and I serve justice by serving yours.'

'No,' says Volibear. 'The Freljord requires nothing, least of all service. You are helping _us_ , and we no longer speak for our people.'

'This goes beyond you and Ashe. I was only half a person before I came to the Freljord, and I'd rather die whole than live as a child.'

'You'll have plenty more opportunities for growth that ask less of you.' Volibear looks to me for help. I have none. 'But you're free to do as you please, and your keen senses are welcome.'

'Thank you,' says Quinn. She looks at me with open defiance.

I beg of her, 'Please don't.'

'I must.' We're beyond reason.

Our last ally avoids eye contact. 'Sarah,' I call softly. 'There's no need for you to come with us. I know you wanted more but…'

'You don't have to creep.' She blows a lock of hair aside. 'I'm out of my depth and I didn't survive to this day by picking every battle.' Her smile returns. 'Besides, you guys will need an escape when it all goes bottoms-up.'

'Running from a horde of angry spirits with our prize in tow.'

'I'll be disappointed with anything less.' Drawing near, she brushes my waist with her knuckles. 'Come back in one piece, all right? If you die because I chickened out, well…'

'I didn't think you cared.'

'Rub it in, why don't you?' She clips the side of my breast with her gun. 'Come back you filthy barbarian slut, or I'm crawling into a bottle for an afternoon, at least.'

'I'll come back and we'll do that anyway.'

'Deal.' Sarah turns to Volibear. 'Look after my babies, you sexy beast, and you'll get all my honey.'

He says, 'I'll protect your friends with my life, regardless of any threats you make.'

'If all men were as good as you, this life would be paradise.'

'You'd think otherwise if we met in battle.'

'Ashe didn't think otherwise, or you wouldn't be here.' Volibear can't object.

Finally, Sarah whispers to Quinn. I can't hear what passes until Sarah draws back and I read a conspiratorial "good luck" upon her lips.

While Quinn chews on her fist, I recall her on top of me, her thumb in her mouth, naked from the waist down. I swallow the memory just in time. Sarah's close. With a gentle, yet insistent grip, she forces me to look at her. 'Be kind, Ashe.'

'I don't know if I can.'

'Whatever happens, dawn will come. Ain't one person with the whole world on their shoulders. Be yourself. Be happy. Be kind. Fuck everyone else, because they'll be fine.' She lowers her voice. 'Even if their queen runs off with another woman.' Fear clutches my heart. I pray Volibear concludes we're talking about Sejuani. Sarah chuckles. 'Yeah, I got you, babe.'

I grow hostile at her intervention. 'You're treading on dangerous ground. You'll drop the subject if you know what's good for you.'

My tone hits like a slap. 'So that's how you're going to play it. And here I was, dumb enough to think you'd listen.' She backs off. 'I'll ready _The Syren_ for a quick getaway. We'll stay for as long as possible.'

'Thanks. We'll send Valor back alone if the worst happens.' I glance at Quinn. She nods in affirmation.

Sarah drags her heels through the dirt. I think our exchange hurt more than she let on. She'd trusted me with her secrets, and I hadn't returned the favour. 'Aye aye. Farewell, Ashe. I hope you find what you need.'

And then we were three.

Hunting for a distraction, I see the fallen rose. While Karthus is busy conjuring wisps to guide us, I pick up the flower and slip it into my quiver. He spies me crouching and I scramble for an explanation. 'I was admiring your garden. How does it work?'

'Your interest is appreciated. Our gravedigger is the one who maintains it. I merely encourage him.'

'Why do they grow?'

'For the same reason I can talk with you. Death is motion. Corpses rot even after the souls move on. You may drive out all life but the most barren land will reconfigure so long as entropy grows.' He lectures while continuing his work. 'What you're seeing is a rare combination of magic, force and nature, somewhat like finding a cloud indistinguishable from a person. I still don't fully understand it. However, time is on my side, one of the great advantages of lichdom.'

Volibear says, 'Time is on nobody's side. You're a fool if you think otherwise.'

'The servant of chaos rebels against certainty. You are the rock, around which all breaks. Your bile, delusion and resentment will no more change your fate than fate will change you.'

'There's no contradiction. Every storm has an eye, still as the wind is wild.'

'Yes, like a tumour pulsing with the beat of a sick heart,' says Karthus. 'We could trade apothems until Valoran dies, but you don't accept anything. It is both your strength and your tragedy.' He moves on. 'Ashe, you look inward enough. I won't torment you with my thoughts until we meet again.'

How did I earn a lich's clemency? 'Don't assume I'll be talkative when I pass.'

'Most of us are. Besides, you have manners, unlike _some_ people.' He says to Quinn, 'Golden girl.'

She'd been fretfully silent ever since her chat with Sarah. Now Quinn snaps. 'Don't call me that! I'm an adult. I have a name. Why do people have to make me into a symbol or a bird or a girl?'

'You're a girl by many standards. You are golden, untouchable, a stray piece of grit from Zhonya's hourglass. You have immense power to change the world, free from destiny's pull. Embrace your nothingness. Embrace your freedom. You needn't accept what others do.'

Quinn drives both palms into her skull, as if containing enormous pressure. For a split second, she looks at me with animal ferocity. 'No, forget it. I'm out of my depth and I can't work out your game. I'll carry on as Quinn, if it's all the same to you.'

I say, 'That's all _I_ need.'

Her longing is plain. I've made a mistake. 'Thank you. Now let's go. _Please_.'

We follow Volibear into the gloom. Karthus bows in farewell, his evil smile frozen in death. By the time I look again, he's gone, leaving echoes of light and song.


	13. Chapter 13

Sunlight fades until we're marching through close, inky night. Soil, that was bone dry, grows damp with rot. Slimy trunks replace brittle bark. The stench of carrion, compost and swamp water fills my nostrils. I hear Quinn gag several times but she waves away my concern if I so much as look.

Volibear doesn't falter. Decay must smell better than humanity.

My soul weakens but I'm able to push my body like a merchant wagon. I picture thick rope, extending from a bronze ring through my nose, wrapped around Volibear's chest. I'm yanked onwards like a slave to market, or a calf to slaughter.

Valor sails above. I can see him only when he obscures the moon. I wonder if he knows how much danger he's in.

Wraiths dance through the trees like miniature comets, or the fae spirits of my home. Volibear pauses to watch them before adjusting our course. I recall my wayward youth, navigating Freljordian ranges and ruins by similar means. I doubt I have the confidence or favour to do that anymore.

Volibear discovers a long aisle of paired silver birches. We stop, while he goes on all fours to investigate. I'm impressed with how softly he moves. Once he passes the final arch, a blast of chill wind reveals his bones. Quinn and I go for our pointless weapons, but he shakes off the jolt as if it were merely rain. He waves us forward.

As we take our final steps across the boundary, Quinn squeezes my hand. I'm unsure who reached out first. A shock of white sunders my being. For a terrifying instant, I leave my body… then return as Quinn's powerful tether pulls me back. Woozily dancing in a tight circle, I nearly stumble into her embrace but I mustn't lean on her. I have to stand alone before Kalista. Sejuani's pain is mine to heal.

For once, I will be the goddess that she deserves.

In the chasm below, tortured thralls writhe like a bed of eels. A rotten bridge, lashed with intestines, makes a bleak offer. Kalista's deal must sell itself.

An impossible crag flowers from the depths. Its narrow stem blossoms into the fossilised ashen palm of a giant. Astride thumb and little finger, marble columns, white and ebon, form a temple of monochrome beauty. My curiosity's piqued. What civilisation is that architecture from? So many secrets, so little opportunity… perhaps endless torment would allow me to discover hidden parts of Runeterra.

Volibear says, 'I feel the presence of the divine. We're not in a mere temple. This is a place of communion, a seat of power similar to the storm's peak.'

Should I feel privileged? I guess few mortals have come here. 'So Kalista's present?'

'Or some other power, but I'd wager that it's her. The design is appropriate, an unbalanced world forced into balance. Do you see how frail the wrist looks, worn to no more than a sapling's width? In our land, it would barely take the weight of its original palm, let alone a structure.'

While Volibear muses, Quinn points with her nose like a dog finding a scent. 'Something's off. You see that erm… slab… altar thing?'

Volibear squints. 'I'd say that's a tomb or reliquary. Maybe that's where Kalista sleeps?'

I'm sceptical. 'Do you think vengeance ever sleeps?'

'It is an urge like all others. It ebbs and flows with time and energy. But as an ideal, you have a point.'

As we debate philosophy, stretching out our lives before the end, Quinn says, 'No, something's above it, or on it. I can't see much, only a bend of the light through the mist.'

I ask, 'What about Valor?'

He trills in response to his name. Quinn translates. 'A… thing of enormous power is contemplating us. Valor can't explain further. He doesn't see the world like we do.'

'I wonder if my hawk spirit sees anything.' The familiar vertigo launches my sight across the bridge.

A vile face, twisted in scorn, appears close to mine. Terror causes my spell to burst. A glittering shower exposes the cerulean figure perched above the tomb. Kalista hunches over a boil of broken limbs, one leg raised and folded like a mantis claw. Her slimy-looking feet are huge. She could reach us with a single jump.

Long arms dangle below, clutching a black spear, the tool of Sejuani's capture.

Hatred courses through my veins. I have steady hands, yet I feel them shaking. I despise this creature for taking advantage of Sejuani. For once, I share Volibear's eagerness to fight and fall.

Kalista bellows from every direction. 'Ashe, you presumptuous little whore. Nothing sacred is beyond your prying eyes and filthy grasp.' Should I apologise for scrying? As I dither between conciliation and rage, Kalista pounds her tomb. 'Keep your excuses! You're as beholden to defilement as I am to vengeance. The Freljord was a near perfect realm until your ascension. Even Tryndamere accepted your leash. You stole a promising thrall and I _do not_ forgive.'

I can't win her over. We'll have to bargain as enemies. 'I came for my love, not your forgiveness. Name your price.'

'You think souls are currency?' The ground rumbles. 'You think I'd repay Sejuani's oath by trading it away?'

Volibear says, 'I'll ensure her soul is returned, if you doubt Ashe's intent.'

'I doubt Ashe's intent and your wisdom but I make no predictions, only judgements.' Kalista thrusts out her claw, fingers crooked with anticipation. 'I'll offer you this pact, Sejuani for a comparable soul, taken immediately. Then if the rest of you don't restore her, I'll claim all of you plus anyone foolish enough to stay my charge.'

When you're facing death, they say your life flashes before your eyes. Instead, I see my lost future, a difficult, rewarding relationship with Sejuani. Through care and understanding, we heal each other's wounds and unite our worlds.

I cover my tears. Couldn't I have held her one last time? I've made awful mistakes and I deserve my punishment but it's all too soon.

Forgive me, Sejuani, Quinn, Volibear, Tryndamere. Forgive me. You're all strong, and you'll do better when I stand aside. Some of you may grieve, but you'll get on. You'll build an imperfect world, riven by conflict, unhappiness and regret, a world far better than any perfection I could sow.

This is goodbye.

Just as I'm stepping up, I hear Volibear ask, 'Will Anivia's egg work as intended?'

Kalista sounds bored. 'As a vessel? Yes, provided you leave the contents alone.'

'Good,' says Volibear. 'Then I'll pay the toll.'

I protest. 'Volibear!'

'My life is meaningless if I can't save my cub.'

'You're saving her now and you'll have the chance to save her, again and again. All I've done is cause her pain.'

'Without you, she'll wallow in despair. Your tribes will scatter and the Freljord will collapse.' His muzzle blasts hot air into my face. 'I won't allow it. Sejuani deserves a better legacy.'

'Where is your faith? You gave up centuries of isolation to follow her into battle. I've seen Sejuani at her most vulnerable, yet even I think she's tougher than what you're claiming.'

'All the more reason for me to step aside. I've been stifling her, while you've shown respect in opposition. She needs a challenger, not a... pretend father.'

'There's nothing fake about your relationship!' I grab his giant wrist as if I could restrain thirteen hundred pounds of Ursine. 'While she thinks I'm something I can't accept.'

'Whether you accept yourself or not, you will _be_. Take responsibility for what you've begun. Through violence or love, make Sejuani happy.'

'No!' My feeble arms tug and flail. Volibear shrugs them off as if they were branches raking his fur.

But our passions were for nothing. Our bridge to redemption is gone.

With a clatter, the planks rebound off the central pillar. Quinn watches, knife in hand, Anivia's egg held close to her chest. Volibear goes to his pouch and finds only straps.

With the casual ease of plucking a rabbit, Valor flies Quinn over the ravine. We race to the edge as Quinn lands on the temple with the grace of an acrobat. She looks over her shoulder. There's no hesitation. All our cries are met with the gaze of a predator, the same gaze that sent me running from our first encounter.

Never once did I think it would lead us here.

Magic amplifies her quiet resolve. 'Is my soul good enough?'

Kalista examines her tribute from all angles. 'I perceive a little girl whose only dream was obedience. No wonder you're so keen to forfeit your pathetic life… but…' She seizes Quinn's throat. 'Your nation is a boil of resentment, all that sacrifice without reward. Some of my keenest vessels are Demacian.' Kalista breathes like a shaman drawing fumes. 'Very potent. I smell a teenager's hatred of an unjust world, fed and watered with tragedy, helplessness and isolation.

'Your fate is cruel. No matter how much you fight, you will never know the simple happiness you desire, never dance with a beautiful wife in public view. Failing acceptance, you don't even possess the wealth to sin privately. Poverty forces you to suck at your liege's dry tit. Soon, you'll have to suckle his children.'

Kalista throws Quinn to the ground.

'Once, you might have accepted your misery but a chance encounter gave you a taste of bliss that you couldn't forget or repeat. You may prove yourself to her a dozen times over, praying for justice in love but only vengeance will answer true.' Kalista drives her weapon into the stone. 'Draw the spear, Quinn. Deliver the justice you deserved in life.'

'You'll free Sejuani, like you promised?'

'Yes.'

Quinn throws back her head, as if taking a final gulp of air before the plunge. 'Can I talk to my friends one last time?'

'If you must.'

Volibear and I yell at her to come back. Valor hovers like a piece of driftwood. We're below, sinking. She waits for a pause in our desperation before saying. 'Ashe, I'm sorry, but I thought about what you said and I can't do it. I can't live as someone else, not as Queen of Demacia, not as an unthinking servant, or… Lux's bitch. I'd sooner die for a cause I truly believe in.' She cuts off my objections with an imperious wave. Oh, sweet Avarosa, this woman could have ruled Valoran. 'Do you know how many people there are like us? I don't. As a girl, I thought I was alone… but imagine a story, famous enough to reach all four corners of the world… two beautiful women, ruling a frontier paradise where secret lovers can find each other.'

Volibear interrupts. 'The Freljord is no paradise. Even if Ashe and Sejuani reconcile, there's little chance of peace. I'm as big an obstacle as any. Quinn, if you're serious about your motivations, you should let me…'

'No,' says Quinn. 'If one person stands between their happiness… it's me.'

Volibear fixes me with a glare cold enough to freeze blood. I gather my courage and offer a clear strike at my throat. He says, 'Quinn?'

'I've taken advantage of Ashe's kindness long enough. Perhaps I could have stolen her but…' I feel my heart leap. _If I had another life_. Those words repeat endlessly. _If I had another life. If I had…_

I scream, 'Kalista, Take me instead! I'm the cause of all this. Take me, please!'

Kalista replies, 'I take no one. Supplicants offer themselves to me. No doubt you could persuade Quinn with the right words, but your father-in-law would feast on your entrails.'

Volibear says nothing. As I choke on fear, Quinn responds like a mother comforting a child. 'No, Kalista, nothing will deter me. This is goodbye.' She touches her face. I wonder if it's a sign of doubt until her fingers hook underneath her bandana. My vision explodes with colour.

Quinn's red hair is nature's masterpiece, lank from our travels yet brighter than sunlight upon snow. She kisses her trigger finger and touches the darkness between us. 'I love you, Ashe. Live well for me.'

'Quinn!'

She grabs the spear. Ghostly chains erupt from its length, restraining her like rotten vines choking a tree. Quinn struggles to breathe. I claw at my chest in sympathy. Can't Kalista grant a willing thrall a clean death?

A pair of blue souls, their tails entwining in a helix, whoosh towards Anivia's egg. As they connect, a familiar crest of twin axes emblazons the shell. My heart flutters in recognition. So my Sejuani's duality runs deep enough to split her soul in twain.

As Quinn squeaks under the pressure, Kalista conjures another spear, this one a simple tool of war, not ritual. A declaration tolls. 'The oath is taken.' She coils like a drawn bow then skewers Quinn's heart.

A flash of green throws me to the ground. Silence descends. I no longer hear Quinn's agony, Volibear's growl, or the churn of Kalista's moat. Nothing remains. Perhaps I'm dead. I'll be with Quinn after all.

As my senses return, I feel something unexpected, Volibear helping me stand. 'Ashe, look.'

Quinn remains upright and intact. Around her feet lie broken chains. Golden light shines from her chest wound, soaking vengeance's temple. Kalista thrashes like an impaled snake. 'LIAR! BETRAYER! DECEIVER!'

Quinn seems bewildered. 'I don't know what happened.'

'ANOTHER HAS CLAIMED YOUR SOUL AND YOU CLAIM IGNORANCE? YOU ARE TWO TONGUES IN ONE HEAD AND I WILL TEAR THEM BOTH OUT!'

I'm so giddy with joy that I can barely speak. 'She's alive! Is justice watching over her?'

Caws, like laughter, echo from above. 'No,' Volibear says, 'Not vengeance or justice… but "Valor".'

Quinn cocks her head as though she's receiving orders, then dives away from a lethal blow. She grabs the egg. Valor swoops in and the pair soar over the trees before any of us can respond.

I ask, 'What is that eagle?'

Kalista roars loud enough that we nearly fall into the chasm. She conjures two javelins and leaps into the sky. Volibear drops on all fours. 'No time! Ashe, hold on!'

I jump on his back. Waves of muscle crash together as he gallops through the forest. I'm scared. I press my cheek against his fur and whimper, 'I'm sorry.'

He doesn't respond.

Out of the corner of my vision, I see Kalista bounding from tree to tree, swinging from each thrown spear. She's catching up. An explosion of bark rains down, cutting my face. We're in striking range. I have to do something.

Rolling over, I squeeze Volibear's trunk with my calves and reach for my bow. My shoulders bounce off him, knocking the wind out of my lungs. Unlike Sejuani, I don't ride in battle. I'm staying on through sheer luck.

Volibear notices. 'Don't! You'll fall!'

A spear misses when Volibear ducks under a fallen oak. We gain a yard of pace. I have enough time to draw my bowstring and invoke Avarosa.

The shape of an arrow forms a bridge of stars between past and future, great mother and lesser daughter. The cold reaches my heart and I feel everything slow.

Kalista's an impossible target for many but I am the greatest archer in Valoran. I see the patterns of the breeze. I bring order to chaos. I can strike enemies across mountain ranges.

I'm a failure as a human but a goddess in battle, just like Sejuani said. I can get one thing right.

I begin counting down, focusing the world to a single point.

_One hundred… eighty…_

Kalista lands on a branch.

_Sixty…_

She prepares to leap.

_Forty…_

She takes flight, raising her spear.

_Twenty…_

Predictions, Kalista will dive, arcing slightly.

_Ten…_

She's a narrow target, widest across the shoulders. I counter by five degrees… up… left.

_Zero._

My crystal arrow smashes into her torso, freezing her in place. I grab Volibear's fur to break my fall. He grunts but refuses to slow down. While the magic thaws, we pull ahead almost fifty yards.

I hope it's enough. It's all I can do. Volibear gives no praise but renewed acceleration.

Kalista gains ground slower now Volibear's warmed up. She gets within striking distance again but Valor blocks her view. Quinn launches a mocking volley from her crossbow then ascends, twisting away from Kalista's retaliation. We've earnt another moment of grace, enough to reach Sarah's hextech artillery. Volibear sees the finish line and surges…

…into a magical barrier.

Volibear and I float helplessly through spectral tar. There's no pain but I feel weak and exposed. Is this how Sejuani felt when she lay before me? Now, she may be free from what I do to her.

Consumed with fury, Kalista dives through the barrier to claim us. Her glowing shroud burns away, leaving a solid outline. I see muscles, teeth, bones and eyes. The veil has been torn.

Volibear's maw twitches.

An thunderclap hurls me to ground. I cover my head as I roll through the dirt. As the ringing recedes, I hear the sounds of battle. Volibear's tearing into Kalista like a vengeful god. Every slap sends aftershocks through the soil.

The duel is lopsided. Volibear's channelling divine power but this is Kalista's territory. Here, she's both stronger and faster. She dances away, stabbing and rending until Volibear's no more than a lump of butchered flesh, but he fights on. Lightning bridges nerves and restarts his punctured heart. Every blow he lands invigorates him and slows Kalista. She howls in frustration as Volibear simply refuses to die.

He scorches Kalista's arms, legs and face. Her spectral form bubbles like any corpse in a pyre. She's on her knees, tearing open Volibear's gut. He totters. I don't think he can lift his arms anymore. Swaying in religious ecstasy, he cranes open his mighty jaw.

The tower falls, then silence.

Volibear lies on his back, like a tomb engraving, with Kalista's head in his mouth. The remains of her body thrash then dissipate.

I crawl to Volibear through scalding gore. His chest heaves. The remnants of the storm push air through his lungs. I could weep at his nobility. How could I rule the Freljord without his blessing? Even if we both live, he'll never trust me now.

Consolation comes from an unlikely source, a lifeless, yet resonant voice. 'Your tears are hasty. That Ursine is cursed with an exceptional tether. He'll survive beyond anyone's wishes, including his own.'

I see Karthus, hovering at a respectful distance. I'm so grateful to hear Volibear might live, that I forget my suspicion. 'He's going to be all right?'

'I didn't say that. Volibear may shrug off this experience, or he may come back after months in torpor, changed and incomplete. Rebirth is mortification, after all.'

'What was that barrier?'

'What was…? Where is your tact? You'd recall my shame while the ink is wet?' I glare. This is no time for his antics. 'Fine, don't lose your temper, tribeswoman. I saw my dear neighbour chasing you, so I conjured a wall that slowed you down while stripping your magical defence. Unfortunately, poor Kalista fell into the same trap, losing all her pace and immunity before confronting one of the mightiest shamans of Runeterra. She could have easily won with a little patience but, alas, I'm blaming others when I should repent. So sorry, Kalista.'

'Wait. You helped us?'

Karthus grins. 'Of course not.'

'So why haven't you finished us off?'

'Your souls are hers, not mine.'

I guess when you've existed for so long, you have an answer for everything. 'Well, you have my gratitude, either way.'

'You're welcome.'

A stampede approaches. Twigs and soil crack beneath a drumroll of boots. A squad of terrified sailors burst into view, Sarah at their helm. She gasps. 'Is that…?'

'Volibear,' I say. 'He's alive. The storm's keeping him together. He won, Sarah.'

'That's what victory looks like? Your land's even worse than Bilgewater.'

'Perhaps. Where's Quinn? Did she make it?'

'She's goggle-eyed and senseless, but unscathed. All she kept saying was "I'm alive" like it was a death sentence.' Kneeling beside me, Sarah whispers, 'Did she come out with anything?'

'You shouldn't have interfered.'

'She deserved you knowing.'

'We'd slept together long before this journey began!' I say through clenched teeth. Sarah's taken aback. 'You thought I needed an intervention to be honest with myself? I have a woman back in the Freljord, one I'm here to save!'

'Are you talking about Sejuani?' I nod. 'So you're trying to unite your country by sleeping with the enemy? Don't know whether I respect you more or less.'

'I love her, Sarah.'

'Then why do you gawp at Quinn like she's your reason to live?'

'I'm insatiable. I look at all women.'

'You don't look at me that way.'

My nerves are completely frayed. I nearly strike her. ' _Maybe_ some people don't find you attractive, you painted warthog.'

'Eh, there's no accounting for taste. Why Quinn's into you is a fucking mystery. She could do far better.'

'She could, which is why you shouldn't have convinced her she was a threat to my relationship. She nearly killed herself to preserve it!' I know I'm transferring my guilt and I'm awful, but Sarah might have pushed Quinn over the edge with her meddling.

'She did what?' Sarah looks wounded. 'I just thought you had a chance at happiness.'

'In another life, perhaps.' I echo my prior thoughts. 'All I can do now is be kind, like you said.'

'I fucked up then.' She sighs. 'Won't be the last time.' We turn our attention to Volibear. 'I guess we should haul him aboard while he erm… you know.' She gestures vaguely. 'I'm scared we'll move him wrong and his heart will pop out.'

I wonder if he can hear our conversation. 'We'll have to do something or this island will...' I hear distant wails. The wind grows stronger. 'What's happening?'

Sarah's already pointing her guns at Karthus. 'I know that sound! It's one of your harvests! What are you doing?'

He says, 'If it isn't obvious, I'm cleaning up your mess.' Angry thralls blanket the sky. 'Did you see her moat? All those poor souls bound for the sake of appearance? Well, Kalista's no longer here to leash them.' Karthus draws power from below. The soil becomes chalk.

I say, 'Is that our cue to leave?'

'It is. I hope your vessel is quicker than it looks. I need a lot of time and energy to command such an audience.'

Karthus' defiling aura brushes Volibear. There's an earthquake as Volibear's regeneration rises to the challenge. His form is cloaked with lightning.

Sarah backs away, shielding her eyes. 'We have to move! All hands, lash Volibear to the hextech thruster!'

I shout over her, 'No! He's already given so much!'

'We have no choice!' While her men scramble, she presses her gun to my temple. 'Sorry, gorgeous, but I'd rather give you cause to hate me than convince you to come willing. Put your hands up.'

I have to concede. As Kalista's legion grows turbulent, I hear Karthus above the noise. 'We'll meet again, Ashe. You needn't rush to cross over. Take your leave.'

'Whatever your intentions, you've been a great help,' I say. 'Thank you.'

'Intentions are nothing. We may pull in opposite directions but all of us come to the same end. You simply need a little more faith.'

'Perhaps I do. Farewell.'

Sarah nudges me forward. I see her crew hauling Volbear's radiant form with a crusty net, a vulgar procession for a miracle. Even plague victims get a cart. I feel sick as the glow disappears into the hold. Sarah briefly strokes my hair, forgetting her role, but she recovers, driving her barrel into the sensitive bone of my jaw.

Stepping on board, I see Quinn, pale and sweaty, like a thief awaiting sentence. I can almost taste her. There are so many things I could express. Why does fate send such noble, yet susceptible, women to lay themselves down for me?

Sejuani, we've rescued your soul but I need you to rescue my heart. I snatch Anivia's egg away from Quinn. She surrenders her prize with an apologetic whimper. My palms roam across the vessel, desperately seeking Sejuani's warmth, but all I feel is cold eggshell.

Sarah claps me. 'Get a grip!' She pulls the nearest crewman. 'Oi! Secure this egg with the fragile goods. I don't care what, or whom, you damage to make room for it.' She addresses everyone. 'I need all hands below decks with hammers at the ready! Grab every piece of wood, smash all the furniture because this bitch is going to shake! Rafen, we've got the wheel. Hopefully, the two of us can prevent a swerve into the lich's opera. Quinn, tell your bird he's our lookout. Ask him to… I don't know, screech and flap in a direction if he sees danger.'

Valor circles the crow's nest. Quinn translates, 'He will.'

The spirits reach a crescendo. Sarah bellows, 'Everybody, move!'

Unfamiliar arms drag me to the hold. As I watch the sailor unravel the complex ropework lagging Sarah's treasure, my focus returns. I take up another corner. My hands work through the tough knots with ease. I'm good with patterns.

Once the chest is open, we dig through the padding, throwing aside ornaments and luminous artefacts. I find a burnt leather belt adorned with metal barrels. Not wishing to leave miniature cannons loose, I buckle them over my hips. I'd rather blow myself up than risk a hole in the ship. I'll stow the belt somewhere else or throw it overboard when the chance comes.

We close the lid on Sejuani's egg, a dumb container that feels as empty as before.

The ship vibrates. Rotten boards cough up nails and splinter. My organs quiver under my skin. I grab onto the nearest rope. A sound like a tun full of bees erupts into a dragon's roar. My legs fly out. I'm waving a like a flag, arms locked at full stretch.

I doubt any repairs are happening. Sarah's plan to keep us afloat was hubris. Volibear must have overloaded the thrusters. I pray to the storm that he's all right, if it listens to such as me.

The walls peel back. Water gushes in. As I turn to survey the damage, my grip rotates an inch too far. Sudden pain loosens my hand. I struggle to hold on but a lurch of the ship weakens my grasp.

I sail across the hold like I'm falling off a mountain. A splinter gouges my calf. The shock overrides the vertigo enough that I land feet first and roll into a brine-spattered Sarah. She disentangles our clutch, and rights herself by pushing off my chest. The warmth gushing over my leg overrides any discomfort. I think I'm haemorrhaging.

Sarah yells. 'We have to eject the thrusters!' Her nails dig into my skin. 'Come with me. There are two levers with two locks. We have to pull together.' She presses a hexagonal key into my palm. 'This is Rafen's copy. He's lashed himself to the wheel, the bastard. It should have been me but he's got fatter hands.' With a grunt, she rolls over the doorframe, dragging me by the wrist. We fall cheek to cheek as if we're dancing, a tradition I'd long envied in other countries. 'Oh shit, you're bleeding out. Wake up, Ashe. I need you with me.'

Her curls brush my lips. 'I'm with you.'

The Volibear-shaped thunderstorm is blinding, yet impossibly contained. Everything surrounding it is darkness. I can make out two giant levers above a metal web. The threads glow as different energies whirl together like oils in water. Sarah and I creep over the floor, knowing one false move could incinerate us. I'm growing faint as I reach my lever. The key turns with a low grind, ending with the percussive chime of iron snapping free.

Sarah notices my delay. 'What's happened, Ashe?'

'The key's broken! I can't…'

She draws her pistol and fires a volley that ricochets off the guard. Shrapnel peppers my skin, but the lock remains unbroken. Sarah's eyes bulge with terror. For the first and only time, she wordlessly begs another person to save her.

I duck my head in shame. I have nothing… except for this belt.

I've seen yordle alchemists in battle. These tubes propel the bearer forwards while spitting fire. Perhaps if I secure the belt around my waist and the lever then find a trigger…

Sarah notices what I'm doing. 'Ashe, you'll blow yourself to bits. Give me that!'

'We've no time!' I raise my chin. 'If I don't survive, tell Volibear to look after Sejuani, and Quinn to look after herself.'

'Ashe!'

I hit a pair of switches on opposite sides of the belt. Oxygen, blood and fire swirl together. My lungs empty. The belt crushes my back. As the smell of burning flesh reaches my nostrils, the lever snaps.

I land in a pile of machinery. My shoulder crunches on impact. I yowl in triumph as daylight falls across my brow. The horizon stretches out where the thrusters were mounted. Cool air sweeps through. The chill grows when I see Volibear's been ejected as well.

I crawl with one good arm, calling out his name. I half-notice a pair of hands urging stillness. I'm cold… so cold. For how long have I bled? I can hear Sarah's voice.

A valkyrie descends. Oh, she's lifting Volibear to heaven! Sweet Volibear, may you find peace at last, away from our turmoil and wickedness. I'm so sorry that I failed you.

His devotion is an anchor. The valkyrie strains to move him. Take me instead, if he can't let go! Commit my soul to the flames so he may live!

An eagle's cry breaks the spell. I see Valor, cawing for help while keeping Volibear's head above water. Collapsing into Sarah's arms, I mouth words, over and over, until I fall sleep.

* * *

According to Sarah, I'd been reciting "polar bears float" like it was a profound insight. She laughs about it now but without any real humour.


	14. Chapter 14

Sarah's a woman of many talents, but first-aid isn't one of them. She's made a mess of my leg. Her stitches are appalling. I'd re-apply them but my shoulder hurts enough that I can't even lace my boots.

I'm told Volibear lies comatose but unscathed. Sarah barred me from keeping vigil. She claimed I might endanger my healing or try something unwise to save him. I suspect she's also forbade Quinn from visiting my quarters.

I understand Sarah's decision but she's overstepped her bounds. When she visits, I'm unwelcoming. She's aware that I'm upset and always brings rum as a peace offering. I can't say no.

For three days, I'm exhausted enough that I sleep right through, but as my waking hours grow, my frustration and self-loathing reach a boil. I drink as I've always done. Apparently, Sejuani can drink everyone under the table and walk along a narrow beam.

I feel sorry for her.

Just as I've drained another bottle of rum, I hear a tentative knock. That can't be Sarah. 'Quinn?'

'Um… yeah, sorry to disturb you. Can we talk?'

I feel my hair stand on end. I know that siren song. Whatever subject she raises, another motive lurks in plain view. I should say no. 'Come in.'

Quinn pads over the threshold, as if on a mission. 'I'm sorry that I couldn't visit. Sarah…'

'Kept us apart.' We share looks of indignation.

'I'm glad she's protecting you, but you're an adult. You can decide if I'm welcome, right?'

'We're both adults.'

'Am I?' She looms over me. Candlelight softens her skin to hide all the markings of battle, though her eyes remain dark. Her breasts cast a small but noticeable shadow. She sits on my bed and we touch through the sheet. As the mattress gives, I recall she's heavier than you'd think. 'Sometimes, I'm an adult. Other times…' Quinn chuckles. 'I talk about myself without asking if you're okay.'

'Just about. I'm worried about Volibear.' Not an answer, we're all worried about Volibear.

'So am I, but he's in the lap of his god, if that's the right word?'

'I'm unsure but if it saves him, it's worth our prayers.'

'I've never prayed. Valor may have some divine connection, but he's already full of himself, and I can't imagine why the gods would listen to me.'

'They have strange tastes. Avarosa looks out for me despite everything. As do you, Quinn. Perhaps you're a goddess?' I can't help flirting when we're this close. I have no self-control.

'I can't agree but I'm glad you're sounding like your old self. I've missed your compliments.'

'My old self was a lie.'

'That I saw through,' says Quinn. 'Whatever your intentions, you were honest in way that I'll remember for the rest of my life, and I'm still grateful.'

She's directing our conversation to the time we slept together. I have to resist. 'As am I, but we should leave that as a memory. Good ones are precious.'

'And a millstone,' she says. 'If you have memories but no future, where can you go?'

'That was my fault. I shouldn't have said anything.'

'You did nothing wrong, but you forgot that I'm an adult only half the time. When I'm a child, I want _everything_.' She clutches my wrist like a trap slamming shut. 'If you're convinced you made a mistake, and you owe me for it, then listen.'

'…Yes.'

'Before I met you, people were just outlines. I could see their actions but I couldn't see _them_. Everyone else read from one script and understood each other while I was left out. Loving women only made it worse. I couldn't work out if all these people were lying or if I were _that_ alone.' Her fingers brush my cheek. I feel the blood rush to my face. 'But you're different. Even when you're lying, you tell the truth. You can't help it. Once I'd found your light, my shadows grew and I couldn't face them again.'

'You'll meet others.'

'When? Where? Nineteen years, I waited for you. Should I wait another nineteen? Do you know how many peasants live beyond forty?' She looks at me with open hunger. 'No, you were my only chance, and even if you were taken, I would make you mine.' She climbs over me with the grace of a tiger, knees either side of my hips. 'I gave up my soul for Sejuani so you'd owe me for your relationship. Every morning, every kiss, every conversation, you'd remember the girl who made it possible. When I took your place before Kalista, I forced myself upon you.'

Quinn's youth shines through those words. I can be the grown-up here. 'But a relationship always depends on more than two people.' I draw my hand from under the covers and stroke her arm. 'Everyone leaves a mark. Volibear, Tryndamere, Sarah, Anivia… and you have a welcome place in our lives, now and forever. There's no fault in what you've done.'

She falters. I'm taking back control. I peel my back off the mattress to give her a big friendly hug… and the sheets fall about my waist. This time, they don't catch on anything. I shiver as my chest is exposed. Quinn wets her lips. 'No,' she growls. 'You still think I'm innocent.'

She pushes me down. The impact fuels my anticipation. Quinn makes no pretence at eye contact. Her gaze wanders over my body. 'I'll show…' Fear punctures her breath as she tugs at her neckline. 'I'll show you how defiled I am.'

I've been here before. Deep within a Freljordian warren, I shed all humanity, forcing evil down Sejuani's tender throat. I thought I could repent through sacrifice but when Quinn took a spear meant for me, the debt shifted.

I have to pay her.

Lies.

I _want_ to pay her.

She frantically pulls the laces out of her bodice, breaking some with her dirty nails. Closing her eyes, Quinn tears off the garment, revealing all.

She traces the remains of her breast. Red and yellow talons of scar tissue form a triangle around her splattered areola. Confused little bumps encircle the leathery space where her nipple once stood.

She finally speaks. 'I was tracking a Noxian agent when I fell into his trap. I survived only because a quick death was too kind. Lashing me to a diseased oak… I can still smell the leaking sap… he began to carve, piece by piece, towards my heart. In the end, Valor rescued me but I was already…' She fights back tears. 'No, I wasn't ruined. Even before that, I felt repulsive.' Her hands travel down, indicating moles on either side of her abdomen. 'I have extra nipples. When I was a little girl, other children called them "witch's tits". I covered up. Some days, I wouldn't leave the house. Caleb would fight any boy who called me names but he struggled with the girls. It was their words that really hurt.'

I'm overwhelmed. Instead of providing reassurance, I blurt, 'You're a cat.'

A spell breaks, or maybe falls. With a tilt of her delicate head and amber eyes, Quinn says, 'A cat?'

'Instead of a witch.' I'm drawn to her firm waist. 'You have extra nipples because you're a cat. You're… my cat. You're my lynx. You're my knight.'

'And you're my queen.' I feel the weight of her hard warrior's body. She kisses me. Falling upwards into her, my treacherous lips return all her love. Treacherous hands wrap the sheets around us. I kiss her neck, ears and hair. She says, 'I can show you all my blemishes and you still can't resist me.'

'Quinn…'

'I've never known such power.' She trails her fingers over my breasts. I whimper. 'Not even with a target in my sights. A good woman would respect your vows, and not take advantage, but I'm already corrupt. Once I drag you down, you'll never make excuses for me again.'

I knew little Quinn was blossoming into something fierce, but I'm unprepared for her assault. She cups my jaw. Her kisses, tough as iron, soft as velvet, ravage my defences, like she's crawled the length of a desert, and I'm an oasis. With a tug of my hair, she forces her tongue into my mouth. She's all I can breathe. I claw at her sweaty, muscular back and squeeze her buttocks through her leggings. In frustration, I pull at her belt.

She pushes me off, denying me the privilege of undressing her. She tears off layers. Buckles bounce off the furniture. Leather squeaks and rustles. Quinn was impossibly shy before. Now she's like a teenage boy, flush with animal hormones and eager to fuck me.

Her love is mine, as carnal as it is noble. Someone else understands.

Her knee pushes my legs apart. She caresses my thighs and I spread eagerly, straining for her touch. When she finally brushes my labia, the jolt is enough that I bite her shoulder. She gasps in delicious pain. After more frenzied kisses, we lock eyes. Dots of crimson glimmer like stars upon her lips. I'd fed her the taste of her own blood.

She smiles, proud of my crazed response. 'I…' She lowers her defence. 'May I… come inside you?'

'Please...' My arms draw her close in acceptance and I whisper teasingly. 'My lord.'

She settles the heel of her hand across my pelvis. I feel the pressure grow where she crushes her knuckles between our hips. Even with no penetration, I feel as though she's nailing us both to the mattress. Her forearm presses into my waist as I swallow her tongue. I'm close to fainting when Quinn draws back.

She grins rapaciously then touches my clitoris while nibbling warm wet circles over my neck and ears. I gasp little affirmations when she grinds into me. Quinn says, 'If only you could hear yourself, begging me to…' She stumbles on profanity, forcing herself from innocence to experience, from lynx to lioness. '…fuck you.'

Her digits probe further. Before I can respond, she's inside, and I lose myself to her rhythm. I release every nerve to Quinn's command. Only my fingers, trailing over her spine and shoulders, remain free.

My head lolls back. She kisses my neck and assails my breasts. I feel sparkling waves of ecstasy crash where her nails glide. She controls my pleasure while my desires are but words on water. Quinn is everything.

Some people say lovemaking is communication, but I only sought obliteration. I despise these urges of mine, despise how they debase my lovers and subjects. I longed for someone to conquer them for me, believed Sejuani could oppress them with barbarian rage. Instead she drew them out so far that I lost my humanity.

Never should I have run, but I keep on running, even if I tell myself no, my soul cries yes… yes… yes.

My core tightens and I moan with each wonderful contraction. A primal, forgotten language colours my breath. Quinn answers my call as the tides obey the moon. She drives against my thighs, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets in bloody determination to come. I press my brow to her temple and utter sweet vulgarities. I squeeze our bodies together to fill her senses, deny her flight and fuel her focus.

I know the fine art of inspiring a self-conscious lover. Doubt and insecurity can dispel the haze. Once a decision has to be made, she'll fall short of her goal. I devour the silence until she climbs to her peak. She growls and trembles with exertion. Her eyes roll upwards. Her mouth contorts. I hadn't seen her face during orgasm before. There's a lot of white. Little droplets of sweat illuminate her skin. I lick them. She has a wonderful even blush, while her locks are matted and oily by comparison. I tug at a few knots while she collapses, a lovely dead weight.

One of these days, I'll have to wash her hair properly, but if she didn't warrant a bit of domestication, she wouldn't be… my Quinn.

She's mine. I'm responsible for this, what she's become, what she's endured. Her shy, sleepy gaze rests on my clavicle. She mutters, 'Erm… sorry for...'

I spank her lightly. 'Don't apologise. You'll spoil the mood.'

'It's just…'

I chuckle. 'You feel a bit silly now?'

'Yes.'

I kiss her cheek. 'It's normal. You did well.'

'I felt selfish.'

'I know but sometimes you have to be selfish.' I blink through the grey dawn of my thoughts. 'I guess that's easier to say than it is to hear.'

Quinn murmurs. 'Just want to be good, for Demacia, for you…' She clutches me tighter. 'But I can't.' She begins to sob. 'I've tried everything and I can't.'

'You're not alone, Quinn. We've all fallen short of our ideals but our friends… and sometimes even our foes… accept us when we don't. You can trust in their strength, their judgement, and their love.'

Quinn's eyes are still wet with tears but another emotion sparks within. 'Ashe?'

'I love you, Quinn. Perhaps I have a greedy, fickle heart, and such words are snowflakes in a storm, but even if I say them to dozens of girls and walk thousands of miles from you, my feelings will remain. Every time we look at the same sun, I'll pray that you're growing and thriving with people you cherish. I'll pray that you're fighting for them as you fought for me… then if I live long enough, I'll pray that your daughters and sons inherit your golden eyes and evergreen soul. That is… all I can offer you, Quinn. You deserve more from life than I can give, but all I have is yours.'

Quinn rains kisses over my head, face and shoulders, raking through my hair like a feral beast. Amidst all the unseemly hiccups and snuffles, I hear, 'It's enough… it's enough.'

I feel a burden settle. Perhaps it will never leave but I can bear it. I'm a goddess, after all. Pain, devotion, guilt and fear, these are my blessings and also my tribute.

As Quinn's outpouring slows to needy, mumbling exhaustion, a creak from outside ruins our peace. Quinn tenses, then rolls out of the bed, fishing a knife out of her discarded belt. I'm instantly cold without her. She crouches, naked as a wolf, wiping off the stickiness of emotion.

Our visitor lumbers away. The whole floor bows from crushing footfalls. I'm ready as I'll ever be to face the consequences but I'm still afraid. 'Volibear,' I say.

Quinn fidgets while I dress. 'Erm… should we go together?'

'No, you can't fight all my battles.'

'You don't think Volibear will…'

'Perhaps.' I raise my chin. If I'm to face my end, I'll do it as the hunter Sejuani loved. 'I fear my judgement will be so much worse than death. Imagine fighting a war both sides have already lost, while knowing you're to blame.'

Quinn shudders. 'What have I done?'

'I'd have been tested and found wanting, eventually, but you saved Sejuani's soul as I failed you both. You found a light shining in the darkness. Be proud.'

She nods, without conviction at first. A hesitant smile blooms. 'Okay, tell her that… oh, I don't know. Barbarians don't like apologies, do they?'

'Not really.'

'Then tell her she has good taste in women, and if she doesn't treat you right, I will.'

'She has awful taste in women but I think she'd respect your challenge.'

'Well, it was more a promise to you than…' She plays with her hands. 'Ah, forget I said anything. I've interfered enough. Don't want her invading Demacia.'

A heavy silence descends. We're parting ways. All I can feel is the distance between us and how much it will grow. Quinn gives me a push. 'You should… see Volibear.'

I force a grin. 'Sorry, it's hard to leave when you're standing there, all naked and yummy.'

She'd likely forgotten. Blushing, she covers her chest and turns away. The supposedly coy gesture shows off her back. You don't fool me, Quinn. She giggles. 'You're terrible.'

'I am. Remember that.' I tear my gaze from her. 'Please don't follow me.'

'No promises.'

'Please.'


	15. Chapter 15

The final steps usher me to the deck, a stage for my denouement. I see the stars, an audience of billions, unsure if they're here to witness a performance, pit fight or execution.

The boards are lit with an eerie cyan glow, similar to the caves of the Freljord. Volibear lurches across the ship, oddly pristine fur drenched in gravelight. In his arms, Anivia's egg shimmers like an eye.

Volibear's expression is unreadable at the best of times. Now, his blankness defeats all interpretation. A poet would look upon him and see nothing.

His neck swivels. I feel someone else looking through Volibear. 'Ashe.'

My toes dig into the floor. 'Sejuani?'

She - or he, perhaps I'm speaking with them both - does not respond. Volibear shuffles closer. His palm engulfs my head like a hangman's cowl. Through bloody fog, I hear my skull crack.

Lightning swarms over me, shaping a river to the farthest shore. The waves rise and fall, crashing onto the base of a mysterious castle. One half resembles a keep. The other half is a mosaic of stone and glass, through which blue fires flicker.

My vision jars upon impact with a black portcullis. A bitter, feminine scent is the last thing I know before powerful hands emerge and seize my throat.

* * *

I'm hanging naked from a damp wall, arms and legs akimbo like a broken butterfly. Manacles press into my bleeding wrists and ankles. My damaged shoulder complains while my head slouches under its own weight. All I can see are my split ends and open thighs.

Depending on company, this position could be fun, traumatic or both. I hear a voice which drives me to the edge of reason. 'Ashe.'

I look up and see my prison. Half the room is the cell where I chained Sejuani, Volibear and Quinn. I guess it's only fair that I have my turn. Over the threshold is a different world. Alien gadgets and light sources overlook a bed of curious design. Upon it, wearing a simple outfit of dense cotton britches, and a button-down top with a stiff collar, is the woman we'd risked all to save.

Brilliant eyes glitter from a stern face, in defiance of their own beauty. Her small nose and fine glacial expanse of a jaw plead for a million kisses. Long fingers entwine below powerful biceps, above calves tall and firm enough to be siege towers.

I dare not risk a familiar greeting. 'Is that you, Sejuani?'

'Close enough.' I hear the pause of an obligation. 'I'm glad you came back.'

'Others paid a heavy price to spare me.'

'They did.' Sejuani's mouth twitches in anger. 'Volibear shared everything.'

Sejuani hates weakness. I have to bear my sins. 'I've no defence. Pass your judgement.'

She snarls like a dragon, punching her mattress with enough ferocity that I hear the frame crack. 'Is that all you have to say? Don't be such a coward. You had _some_ reason to behave as you did.'

'You want to hear my rationale? There was none. I was weak and irresponsible.'

'You insist our tribes can understand each other but whenever it hurts one of us, you close down!' She covers her face in exasperation. 'I'd suffer the void for you but you won't accept that. You won't accept me.'

'Then tell me where to begin.'

Sejuani peers between her fingers. I can taste her apprehension as I did at our last encounter. 'The… Demacian brat, you said you… loved her. Did you mean it?'

I sense a knot in my throat, a future ready to be born. I can't withhold it. A kick forces words into my mouth. Is this what labour feels like? What I say next will change our destiny forever. There's no time for qualification. Explanations are as good as lies.

All I can do is follow Sejuani's lead. If she would suffer the void, I will summon it. 'Yes.'

The word is black ice, dissolving between us. Unsteadily, she rises to her feet. Like a tree swaying from an axe's blow, she totters then smashes her fists into the wall, howling. Rivers of blood pour from her knuckles. Gradually, her cries diminish from a barbarian's roar to the sobs of a broken young woman. She kneels then falls. 'What is it you see in her?'

'She's brave…'

'Lots of people are brave! Volibear's brave. Tryndamere's brave. You don't love them!'

'She denied Jarvan to…'

'She latched on to a stronger personality! She's been bred to die for whatever stupid cause her betters decide. She's no more than a hurled rock or a thrown spear.'

'She's kind…'

'She's a pup! She'd lick the hand of anyone for scraps of emotion.'

'She's pretty…'

'No, she's not! She looks like a boy!' Sejuani hammers the ground. 'She… looks like a boy.' There's a pause in her rage, a concession.

'You're jealous, aren't you?'

Sejuani sits up. With a sneer, she grabs one of her breasts and recoils immediately. 'She's a runt, but when I saw her dressed like a man in Volibear's memory… great mother, I'd have given everything to be her. The feeling passed but, for a moment, it was there.'

'Sejuani…'

'It hurts to think some witless Demacian can effortlessly do the one thing I never could, and it hurts even more to know that you like it.' She spits. 'I bet she fucks you like a man too, something I… can't do. Serylda knows I tried with our women. If I had another body, perhaps I would have felt something other than sadness and failure.'

'There's no failure. That isn't what I need from you.'

Sejuani sighs. 'Don't lie to me, Ashe. It is something you need. I think you'd rather get it from me, but you can't.'

'You're… half-right. Since the beginning, it's always been me chasing and you pulling away. Say what you will about Quinn, she goes after what she wants, and it makes me feel happy, like an object of desire rather than a slave to it. You're gorgeous no matter what role you take. I just wish you'd approach me, willingly, rather than force me to claim you.'

'"Force you?"'

My heart sinks. How can I blame her for my sadism? 'No, forgive me! What happened was my fa…'

'No, you had it right.' Sejuani looks away in disappointment. 'For an instant, you had it right. Then you shied away, like always.'

'No, don't take responsibility for…'

'I'll take responsibility when I deem fit, as will everyone else.' Her scrutiny redoubles. 'Did you force the brat to throw her life away?'

'"She" has a name. You owe her that much after she rescued your soul.'

'Fine. Did you force… _Quinn_ to throw her life away?'

'Volibear didn't hear everything. I talked her into it by mistake.'

'Your speech is dangerous, but you're not responsible for two decades of brainwashing, loneliness and self-hatred.'

'You know nothing of her.'

'But I know myself, and I know _you_ ,' Sejuani says. 'The truth is you can't relinquish your guilt. Once you're declared innocent, you become powerless, and that terrifies you.' Her pronouncement is like a door slamming shut.

'Sej…'

'All you've done is run away. This united Freljord you speak of isn't some great vision. It's a means to preserve the frightened little girl you once were, to make our world your playpen, where everything is your fault and you can feel safe.'

'My people aren't playthings! They're individuals and I want them to…'

Sejuani's knife twists further. She's the one person I could never hide from. 'You don't even grant agency to the people you love! I am your fault. Quinn is your fault. How much less must you think of the peasants under your heel? You didn't even trust Volibear with the truth, the greatest, wisest man I've ever known. And you stole his right to set a course with open eyes!'

'I thought he would kill me for…'

'He would not kill you behind my back, especially over something as trifling as Quinn! How can you blind yourself so readily?'

I might ask Sejuani the same, considering she broke down over this "trifle". 'What I had with Quinn did mean something, and if you wouldn't acknowledge it, I wanted Volibear to do so… then punish me for wounding you.'

'Yet you hid from his judgement.'

'Yes, I still wanted to live, and even if I were to fall, I had to save you first.'

As I speak my truth, this world blurs. I can't focus. The strain is agony. Sejuani reaches out and I yearn for her touch. My desire goes unquenched. Instead she removes an object from the bridge of my nose. I see clearly again.

* * *

Our cell has vanished. We sit on a grey mountaintop. Above, the sky is an unsettling purple. Far below, the fields of ice are covered in a shroud of blood-red mist. I'm still chained to a rock, and still naked. Sejuani is now wearing her typical battledress and toying with a something. She takes off her helmet then presses the object to her face. Her eyes consider me through the rectangular spectacles from our shared dream.

She can see me now as never before.

So where do we go from here?

_This woman will follow you to the end of any path, and fight you every step of the way._

Avarosa?

_Maybe. Here it is more likely that you are hearing your words through my voice._

Or hearing my fears.

_How apt. Fear was always my closest companion. Through its counsel, I can tell you that Sejuani fears asking questions more than answering them._

While I fear the opposite.

…

So I begin asking questions. 'Where do we go from here?' I echo. 'For a start, I guess you don't want me sleeping around after all.'

'Do as you will. My terms haven't changed.'

'Sejuani, don't give me that. You nearly broke your hand in jealousy.'

'And?'

'I'm sick of hurting you!'

'Should I tell others they can't fight for you?' The red mist glows. 'My place is to become stronger, not refuse all competition. If these women prove worthy of more than a place in your harem, that is my failing.'

'So when you grow sick and old, I should abandon you?'

'That is our way. I'd sooner die at the peak of my powers than live to become a burden.'

'If you're cruel enough to die young, you'll burden me for as long as I draw breath, and you'll destroy Volibear.' The sky growls in response. 'Don't you realise your very life is a well of strength, no matter how frail you become?'

'We're not sentimental. We…'

'Volibear certainly is, and he's one of the greatest warriors our land has known.'

Clouds gather. Sejuani says, after a pause. 'I can't deny that.'

'Is it such a weakness? You can want me to yourself, even if you don't feel deserving.'

'I… deserve to know the parts you keep hidden, even if they hurt me. Your desire is magnificent. I'll not be shielded from what others freely behold.'

'If you insist. We may both regret this.' I feel the beast rising as I hold Sejuani's gaze. 'Do you know that I fantasise about you getting fucked by the whole Freljord, even Tryndamere?' Lightning flashes. 'Do you know that I once woke up all of the ship, not because of a nightmare, but because I got off to you bearing his children? Would you suffer that for me?' Sejuani can't hide her shock. Sweet Avarosa, I'm picturing her as the main course on a banqueting table. 'Yes, I fantasise about humiliating us both. I'm your goddess, after all.' She doesn't respond. 'You don't have an answer. That's a first.'

'I've heard it all before,' she says quietly, drawing her knees together. 'But hearing it from you makes it real. I don't think I could enact your scenario, not willingly.' That last qualification chills my blood. She's leaving a frightening possibility open.

'Don't even consider it. I doubt I'd enjoy the real thing anyway.'

She looks unconvinced. 'My men often talk of rutting you. They can defile the virtuous "queen", ruin your legacy and repay their fallen.'

Of course they do, and I don't have any pearls to clutch after my disclosure. 'But you don't join in.'

'People should learn from your strategies. Too disgraceful an end might overshadow them.'

'That sounds like an excuse.'

'Does it?' She stares into her broken helmet, as if studying her own face. 'You're not wrong. I feel your humiliation is something I should want, even if I stall the urge for the greater good.'

'You shouldn't force yourself to want anything, least of all that. I don't see my feelings as natural.'

'Others will. I see them as natural.' I see tremors where her fingers grip the helmet. 'And I'd do anything to help you accept them.'

The tremors grow until they consume everything. Our surroundings change again.

* * *

We're in a tent filled with opulent drapes, a conqueror's tent. I can't imagine Sejuani living here. Maybe this is an ideal to which she can't aspire. There are rugs and furs all over the floor, so her non-existent harem has ample space to lounge. I can smell sex and incense.

One slave girl relaxes amongst them. She's long and muscular, dressed only in jewellery, nipple tassels, and a strip of cloth dangling from a thin cord around her waist. A dusting of white body hair coats her legs, arms and belly. She has the impossible curves and endowment of a fantasy come to life.

But Sejuani's not a fantasy. Awkwardly, she drags a hand from thigh to chest. Upon contact, she screws up her eyes and flushes. I don't know if she's excited, or appalled. 'You picture me like this, don't you?'

My whole body aches with lust. I pull against my chains. 'Don't do this to yourself.'

'You don't listen to me when I tell you the same.' She stops massaging her breast. 'We're missing something.' She gets on all fours. 'Yes, that's better. You love this. You love the discomfort in my eyes, and you love watching it ebb. Every second I hold this position, it grows a little more natural, and pleasurable. Eventually, I might enjoy letting men fuck me like this, while you watch.'

The hormones are suffocating. My pelvis clenches. I swear I'm going to come with no contact whatsoever. The line between my awful dreams and the real Sejuani is blurring, if it was ever there to begin with.

'You imagine me pregnant with their children.' A chill darkens the room and another illusion falls.

The tent is now bare and ragged. Sejuani droops, abdomen hollow beneath her ribs. We've discovered her true breaking point. Finally, the space between my fantasy and the flesh and blood woman has grown insurmountable.

She says, 'I don't understand why you'd want me to bear someone else's child! You are cruel to yourself in many ways but I can't... I can't…'

I turn this around. 'Why is _my_ having a child so painful to _you_?'

'Because I'd have no future!' Her voice rises in pitch. 'And I can't lose that. I could lose everything else but not that.' Her denial takes form and clouds my view of her. She's no longer a woman, but a girl, draped in loose clothing that obscures her stunted frame. Even so, she can't pass as a boy, not like Quinn.

'What do you mean?'

'If you bear a child, you'll leave a mark of your connection with someone else.' Despite her visible regression, Sejuani's cadence remains lofty as ever. 'Your stud will be remembered through his descendants while all trace of our bond will vanish.'

'What if we raised the child together, as a couple?'

'Their presence would be a constant reminder that all we have is fleeting.'

'Many children are known for their adopted parents. We don't have an alternative, barring a miracle.' Divine intervention rescued Quinn. We could pray for the same. 'Why is bloodline so important to you? Doesn't your tribe scorn inheritance?'

'I inherited the wrong eyes, the wrong voice, the wrong urges and the wrong body! Nature gave me the wrong past. All I have left is the future.' Her voice lowers. 'Please don't take that away from me.'

'Then we have one option.' She doesn't answer. 'I know you proposed it in another life. What if you bore the child?'

Sejuani gathers up handfuls of her oversized smock. 'I'm the Winter's Wrath, not a mother.'

'You could be anything.'

'You would… see the child as yours?'

'Yes. You'd carry them for me. We'd raise them together. They'd understand our different ways and unite the Freljord in a way that I never could.'

'I…'

'Would you sooner have _me_ bear someone else's child?' She squirms. 'I'm not asking you to commit to anything. We… no, _you_ have to know the answer.' In this form, she looks petulant, rather than brooding. I'm finding it easier to press her. Maybe I shouldn't be a parent, after all.

Her voice is ragged when she finally responds. 'I'd rather bear the child.'

'You're so brave.' She looks up through glimmering eyes. I fall into an ocean of her tears.

* * *

We emerge on a strange dock, surrounded by giant, rusty ships of distant origin. I'm lashed to the front of one like a figurehead. Sejuani's an adult again, dressed in synthetic and woollen clothes.

I say, 'You do have a future, Sejuani. Maybe it's not as you are now, but anything else would be an eternal present.'

Sejunai rubs her nose. 'There is truth in your words. If only you ruled your tribe with such wisdom.'

'I'll get there.'

She smiles thinly. 'Giving birth might scar me for life. Yielding to this body, after resisting it for so long... Yielding to you was painful enough.'

'Sorry, my love. I'll regret that for as long as I live.'

'We'd both have chosen different roles. Perhaps we'll transcend them, one day.'

The cold sea wind passes through my bones. 'Would we still be lovers then?'

'I don't know,' she says, warming her hands in her pockets. 'The future is boundless.'

'What about now?'

She gives a deep sigh. 'No more or less than we were before.'

'So nothing's changed?'

'You never did live up to my expectations. You either fell short or exceeded them. Through rescuing my soul, you did both. I see only continuation.'

'Is that enough?'

'I doubt it. Our situation can not hold.'

'What should I change?'

She answers readily, 'Don't lie to Volibear. What you do to him, you do to me.'

'I'm sorry for hurting your friend. I don't expect his forgiveness, or acceptance.'

'You should expect nothing apart from your life. He won't kill you. So long as we're connected, he'll stand between you and the void.'

I barely deserve his acknowledgement, and he knows it. His devotion to Sejuani has forced him into the role of my protector. 'That isn't fair.'

'Then be the woman deserving of his blood. Make it fair.'

'How?'

She pauses, as though communicating with him. 'That's for Volibear to say. He's expressed little to me. I've rarely known him so quiet.'

'Oh.' That's ominous.

'He may be withholding judgement until I'm restored.' She waggles her fingers, as though seeing them for the first time.

'You seem worried.'

'Yes, part of me fears how I may change. Maybe I'll seek vengeance for your actions when I have my soul back. I'm uncomfortable with that thought.'

'I don't think our relationship, or any relationship, is worth your soul. If both you and Quinn come to believe that, I'll sleep easier.' She turns her back to me, arms crossed tight across her heart. 'Sejuani?'

'Perhaps... I don't know. I know what I _wish_ to believe.'

'That there's something larger than you, worthy of your self-destructive, unconditional love, a woman you may fall before without losing your pride. You watched me save your soul, not as a warrior, but as a craven rogue, lying and seducing my way to victory.' She doesn't respond. 'Now, history has to be rewritten. If a great leader put you on your back, you could retain some of your identity. If a weakling took advantage of you then all is lost.'

She whispers, 'You didn't take advantage. I delivered myself to you. It was my choice to... submit.' Oh, my poor thing, saying that must have hurt so much.

'You chose without knowing me. Now you've seen what I truly am, would you change the past?'

'You're many people, Ashe, and I saw who you were at that point in time.'

'Do you love me, or just her?' She rubs her cheek. I wonder if she's crying. 'If it's any consolation, I was just as blind. I never knew you were younger than me.'

She turns, roused from her stupor by the mention of numbers rather than feelings. 'Yes, by three years, if my sources are correct?' I nod. 'My birthdate is common knowledge. I shared it with an omen. I can't imagine how you stayed ignorant.'

'I never thought to ask. I just assumed we were the same. You weren't the only one chasing an ideal. I pictured another half, not a younger woman with anxieties and weaknesses. I'm glad I found you instead.' She doesn't smile in return. 'I guess you can't express the same.' I relax into my chains. 'You're strong enough to walk away.'

'Your Demacian wouldn't walk away. I'm not losing you to her.'

If my infidelity secures our relationship because Sejuani's that eager to spite Quinn, I might give up on making sense of the world. 'She'll return to her own life. Quinn was never mine. I was only her coming of age story. Perhaps I'm just yours. Walk away. Leave me chained. I can't chase you now.'

Sejuani speaks with kind frustration. 'You're not chained.' I tug and wince as the metal bites into my wrist. 'You're doing this to yourself.'

'Maybe Volibear…?'

'No, he's not interfering.'

I no longer trust my senses. We're in limbo, floating through rainclouds, the raw materials of the storm and our shared hallucination.

* * *

I can't see my body, let alone my chains. Yet something holds my consciousness just as firmly. Before me shines a valkyrie with eight grey wings and skimpy silver armour. Her helmet is no longer broken. Sejuani's become the living ideal of strength and beauty.

No, I want to see the real thing. Maybe I never saw the real thing. Maybe this is her trying to please me.

Did she ever try to please me? The thought is oddly troubling. Sejuani wouldn't do that, would she?

I slump from invisible shackles. 'I'm too weak to break free,' I say with an invisible tongue.

'You're not.' Her voice is that of the heavens.

'I am. If you still wish to believe, then walk away. Trust I will break free and hunt you as I did before. But if you're wrong, you can sleep well, knowing you're free of your false goddess. Either way, you win.'

She hesitates. 'What if I still want you?'

'Then free me, and in doing so, accept I am broken and helpless, that I will never live up to your ideals,' I say, 'That I'm just an Avarosan you squandered your dignity upon.'

She floats up to me, and I drink her in. She's gorgeous, utterly gorgeous, and the mere sight of her is enough to strike me dead. Watching her move is paradise. Underneath her divine façade, I smell both sweat and snow. She gives me form when she brushes my cheek. I kiss her hand in rapture. She says with growling sensuality, 'Ashe, I'll never lose all faith in you. Perhaps it will fray to dust as you try me to destruction but, even scattered and formless, it will remain.'

'I love you so much!' I blurt, all my poise gone.

She presses her forehead to mine. Her eyes captivate me, with their unique slant and azure colour, deep as a summer night. I've long wondered which ancient warrior-queen or legendary creature bequeathed them. She may carry some Frostguard blood, as Nunu's eyes turn a similar way, and she's always been one of nature's enchantresses. 'I don't know if I can accept you like this. I may destroy both of us trying to lift you up, or drag you down.' I can feel the hunger on her lips. 'Ashe, I would know you one last time before I make a decision.'

Please let this be real. 'Take me. Take me and if you can love what's left, I'm yours.'

Unlike so many times before, she doesn't argue. She kisses me. Joy cascades like a waterfall. I bare my throat as her hands explore my body for the first time. She'd always been a deferential lover despite her talk of conquest. Even at our most intimate, she kept her animal side wrapped under layers of cold philosophy. This engagement is what I needed from her, not only her love but her desire. For so long, I'd wondered if she truly shared my passion, but right now, she's putting all my fears to rest with her tongue and her touch. Even if this is just a dream, we have a future here… we have…

* * *

Light explodes. We connect and violently separate. We were everything and now we are nothing. I'm hollow, my heart, lungs and soul, _gone_. I scream with loss and frustration, scream to silence. I'm alone… and I'm awake.


	16. Chapter 16

Volibear staggers away, pawing at a quarrel in his arm. I stumble as though drunk, falling across the guardrail. I want to howl in grief, but all I can do is retch between sobs.

I can't let it end like this. In desperation, I run towards him to plead forgiveness. I need access to that magical world where Sejuani wanted to ravish me. From what she was saying, that could have been our last time!

Volibear swats me to the deck, and I land on my injured shoulder. Before, I'd have passed out from the pain but when everything else is at fever pitch, you simply go numb. His arms crackle. 'Get out of my sight.'

'Volibear…'

'I have _nothing_ to say you, betrayer!' He tears the missile out of his bicep. 'I made a promise to Sejuani and I will not break it for you, no matter how low you sink.' Flesh knits over the wound. He looks younger following his regeneration. If that happens every time, he could be older than we know.

Sighing, he looks with pity beyond words at our intruder. Quinn's crossbow dangles by her trigger finger. Her eyes bulge with watery, babyish dread, like she's awaiting a smack. She says. 'I thought you were…'

'Do you think you could stop me if I wanted Ashe dead?' He says without arrogance. 'Leave. That's all the guidance I can offer. Let your flame die before it engulfs you.'

My tongue is sharper than Volibear's. I'm seething with arousal and it's fraying my nerves. 'Quinn, I told you not to follow.'

Volibear shouts over me, 'So what? Your words are a veil. The poor girl is obsessed. Any selfless concern you feign will merely hook her deeper.'

He's right. I have to be the vicious, masterful queen of the Freljord. I have to be the creature that Sejuani loves. Mustering all the gravity a fallen woman can project, I say, 'Do you have any idea what you've done? I was communing with Sejuani, trying to mend our relationship, and you _stole_ me from her.'

Quinn says, 'I didn't realise…'

'You claim to love me but you never listen to me! So long as I'm an object you can chase, you don't care what I want, what I feel… who I am.' Part of me believes what I'm saying. I collapse and feel the cool wood on my cheek. 'I don't think anyone cares who I am, and that's okay.'

'I do care, Ashe. I really do.'

'Then leave.'

'But… okay, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.' Quinn turns to Volibear. 'Please don't hurt her, Mr. Bear. If you feel you owe me anything, don't hurt her.'

He views me with contempt. 'I won't _kill_ her. That alone is testing my restraint, yet I won't consider my debt erased for a promise I'd already given Sejuani. You're owed restitution greater than Ashe's life.'

'It's enough for me,' says Quinn. 'I'm sorry, Ashe, I don't want to abandon you but I don't want to make things...'

I snap. 'I asked you to leave anyway. Go!'

Quinn slinks away.

I sit upright and hug my knees. 'Whatever Sejuani decides, whatever you decide, I'll…'

'We don't need your co-operation, Ashe. Do as you will.' Volibear ignores me to watch the sea.

Clutching at straws to maintain our conversation, I stupidly offer, 'She called you "Mr. Bear".'

'She may call me Avarosan for all I care. She gave up her soul for my cub, while you sold your heart.'

'I never meant it to be this way.' Meaningless words, even if they are true.

'Does that make any difference?' He searches the clouds above. 'You have a terrible power, Ashe, the power to love whatever achieves your goal. You sought one Freljord, so you loved Sejuani. You sought a means to avoid your fate, so you loved Quinn.'

'I didn't...'

'Silence! I don't want to hear your excuses even if you believe them. I've little doubt your feelings are genuine. You don't manipulate others. You manipulate yourself. When I look at you, I see the void. I see chaos walking. I see the storm… and it frightens me.' His voice sounds like it's coming from a thimble, rather than his cavernous body. 'The storm frightens me.'

'I'm just a woman, Volibear.'

'Which frightens me most of all. Perhaps you are the way of the world and I didn't notice. Before my ascension, I confronted my predecessors for turning inward and losing sight of our realm. All this time, I've been prey to the same vice, but I can't change course. It is too late.'

'What do you mean? What is too late?'

'I can't acknowledge your potential because you've hurt my cub. I could write a million sermons on creative destruction. I could listen to Sejuani sing verse after verse on conquest.' He stares into his palms. 'All the wisdom and rage of our combined heritage, all of Sejuani's acceptance won't move me to condone you. My beliefs are vanity. For now, I am not Chosen of the Storm. I'm simply Volibear. Go.'

I rediscover my balance. After everything, I'm still alive. I'm still Ashe. My fingers and toes move as they always did. I can still run, shoot, eat and fuck. I remember Sarah's comment about her body forgetting the pain of childbirth.

I should leave, but one sentence rises to my lips. 'I never knew she sang.'

'She does, only to herself.' He's so easy to bait into conversation. You just have to mention Sejuani. 'I can't judge her skill by human standards but I enjoy listening to her.'

My knees buckle. I'm consumed with the recollection of her breath and voice. To think I could have heard her sing! Oh, I need her touch. I need everything. 'As would I. Thank you for telling me. Goodbye Volibear.'

* * *

I descend into darkness. It feels like an embrace. I'd resigned myself to exposure but the dark always returns. I don't deserve you, my friend.

It's so hot down here. Why is it so hot? Is it my shame and anger, the heat of _The Syren_ 's engines or merely the climate? I wish every land were like the Freljord. I could at least think there.

No, I couldn't. Even waist-deep in the purity of the driven snow, I dissolved into corruption.

As I near my cabin, I feel my body hair rising. I can smell prey. Quinn, I know you too well. I know exactly where you'll be, sexy, stubborn Quinn, who ruined my good time.

She's there, sat with her back against the door. She looks up at me like a beaten dog and says, 'I'm sorry. I know you're mad but I can't sleep knowing I've done wrong. I just want to make things right.'

With a surge of adrenaline, I seize her neckline with my one good arm then pin her against the wall. I invade her mouth with my tongue. She claws in feeble resistance. I grab her knee and pull it up, thrusting my thigh between hers. When I break our kiss, Quinn looks at me with pleading eyes.

Ever the good girl, except when she's not. 'Ashe, this won't help. You'll feel…'

'Don't tell me what I'll feel.' I punish her again for her impudence, biting as I disengage. 'Right now, I can't make things any worse, and no matter what happens between us, we'll go back to our separate lives. This is just a dream, a beautiful, beautiful dream.'

'Ashe…'

I cup her face. 'We can make a show of our guilt and impress nobody, least of all, Sejuani and Volibear, or we may salvage what we can.' She swallows. 'Life is cruel. You might wait a long time for another partner, but if you'll have me, Quinn, I'm yours until we land.'

'I…'

'Yes, my lynx?'

'I… just once, I want to wake up next to you, in a bed, like we're… married. I want to know what that feels like.'

'You sweetheart.' I kiss her throat. 'Is that all?'

She clutches my hip and leans into me. 'No.'

* * *

Quinn is a beast. I thought I was alone for wanting sex all the time but she gave me a place to belong, over and over again.

She couldn't sleep at first. She tossed and turned like the ocean. After fantasising about sharing a single bed, she discovered it was really hard. I smiled in the dark as I listened to her growl in frustration.

She woke up exhausted while I was refreshed. I kicked off the blanket and she greeted me with a scowl as deep as a Freljordian ravine. She grumbled, attached herself to my waist, and forced me down before going back to sleep.

I remember wishing I had a book while she caught up. However, she was so adorable, I couldn't stay mad. Her bratty side was a gift. When I slept with Sejuani, she was the suffering, indulgent wife, while I was the needy pest. I enjoyed filling a different role.

When Quinn woke up, she was contrite and affectionate. She kissed my belly, and we laughed about how difficult it was to sleep with another person. When my stomach rumbled, she collapsed into a fit of giggles. I felt a warm dampness where her face lay. She raised her head and looked at me with the most beautiful expression I'd ever seen. Wiping away grateful tears, Quinn finally knew what it was like to be married.

Soon, I learnt to sleep with my back to Quinn so she could roll away or spoon depending on her need. I had fewer chances to ogle her, but I loved it when she kissed my neck and caressed my side. It got even better when she wrapped her arms underneath mine to play with my breasts. I always gave her buttock an approving squeeze when she did that. Her future partners might rue my encouragement, but I'm sure Quinn can afford a few bad habits.

Liberated from her shyness, Quinn proved an athletic and inventive lover. She tried new methods and positions without thinking any through. With my sore shoulder, I was happy to luxuriate in her vigour, savouring her incompetence and inspiration alike. She held me like a dog, worshipped my feet, and left accidental bruises with her muscle and bone. When I took control, she relaxed into a more feminine role, as doe-eyed and ingenuously seductive as when we first met.

In the gentle silence of an afterglow, I asked her which role she preferred. She didn't know. I liked her answer.

I learnt so much about her body. Whether due to scarring or nature, she's quite insensitive. I can suck almost anywhere to the point of leaving a mark and she barely notices. Only penetration's difficult. She keeps asking for it only to seize up like a bear trap whenever I so much as probe with my tongue.

Whenever I'm inside her, it feels like something other than lovemaking. It feels like a conversation she can't hold. I watch her gaze upwards in a sore trance while I move, slower than a mountain. When she moans with pleasure, it's like she's communing with the divine.

I worry that she's preparing her body for the role of Demacia's queen. As before, I'm despondent, yet secretly thrilled. I wish I knew how to process my taste for watching masculine women getting fucked, usually by men. I don't know whether it's an expression of my self-hatred or just a benign quirk of my sexuality.

I don't know.

I like that answer, just not from me.

* * *

Everybody knew what I was doing with Quinn. Walls talk on a ship. I've little doubt sailors were making vulgar jokes at my expense but they were too scared of their captain to bother me. Conversely, Quinn grew more popular. Many times, I saw her wearing her new bodice and laughing with the men. I think they saw her as one of the "lads" while I was a perverted woman who put on airs. Never mind that I was a blooded ranger with mud on her boots, I was Quinn's conquest.

Sarah made things awkward. She was torn up with guilt and far too eager to fix our relationship. Although her pout and swagger masked our tension, Bilgewater's foremost bounty hunter wore neediness like a halo. By warning everyone off me, she'd painted a bigger target.

We began talking again, slowly. Sarah had little experience of true friendship. She was used to resolving arguments with coin or blood.

So many of us grow up alone. We might as well be stars in a cloudy sky.

Volibear was uncommunicative. I lost some respect for him. Why do all these "mighty" warriors prowl and sulk at the first sign of personal conflict? If men aren't retreating into their little caves, they're cracking awful jokes or puffing out their chests. I grew frustrated enough that I played a suicidal game, staring at him to provoke a reaction. I wanted him to lose his temper and throw me into the sea.

Of course, he never did.

I found refuge in Quinn. Every day, she grew up a little more while the rest of us grew stagnant. Even if I couldn't follow, I could watch.

The towers of Demacia were no comfort when Valor sounded our arrival.


	17. Chapter 17

I spend the last day staring into the sea, preferring sickness to my inner conflict. I'm eager to restore Sejuani, but fearful that she'll turn hostile. Back home, I have responsibilities. On board, Sarah manages everything while Quinn warms my bed.

Volibear can't hide his impatience. I half-expect him to dive into the choppy green water and swim to shore. He carries Anivia's egg in a strongbox, a present from Sarah. Few people could lift it, let alone steal it. We've learnt our lesson from Quinn's interference.

The box might draw attention from outlaws, but Volibear would enjoy cracking a few skulls.

I hear Quinn approach from behind. She plays with my hair while I nestle into the crook of her shoulder, making the most of the time we have left. I'm past caring what others think. Volibear can fume and the sailors can leer. This moment is too precious.

_The Syren_ judders into dock. Engines spit out minor corrections to our course. We back away from the rail at Sarah's behest. I watch Quinn straighten out her bodice, ready to meet her liege. I do like that she's putting on a show. These prudish Demacians warrant a little hardship.

I sometimes wonder how they cope with Shyvana. Maybe they can't see the woman through the scales, their loss.

Once again, I'm down to my bra and skirt, sweltering in Demacia's warm climate. I'm covered in sweat and sunburn. Volibear pants in the shade of the forecastle. We notice our mutual discomfort and look away. He's mortified we share anything.

Sarah lowers the boarding ramp and whistles. 'Come on, little bird. You're the hometown hero. It's only fair that you go first.' Valor swoops onto the pier before anyone can object. He knocks over two dockworkers then perches, like a military standard, on a flagpole. The dockmaster roars expletives while Quinn covers her face in embarrassment. Sarah laughs. 'Ah, I forgot we had an actual bird.'

Quinn says, 'He can't bear someone else being the centre of attention.'

'You'll get your day in the sun.' With a playful shove, Sarah propels Quinn over the threshold. 'Enough holding back. You've got one life. Drink, fuck and fly, babe! If Jarvan gives you shit, your Auntie Fortune will burn down his harbour and treat you to the filthiest whores in Bilgewater.'

The crew cheer. Some of them offer the names of their favourite women. I hear an "Ashe" in there. Quinn smiles awkwardly. 'I'm sure that won't be necessary but thank you.'

'Pleasure's all mine.' Sarah gives Quinn's buttock a loud slap. 'Fuck, you're tight! Swing your hips and let Ashe know what she's passing up.'

I can love the sight of someone walking ahead, but not walking away. Quinn glances back and I nearly cry.

Next up is Volibear. He bows deeply before Sarah. 'Captain Fortune, you have done a great service for the Winter's Claw and for me, personally. Should you grace our lands, you will be a guest of honour until our stores grow bare.' Few can express noble gratitude so well. Diplomats would sell their firstborn to learn from Volibear's grace though I doubt he'd accept the compliment.

Sarah's bosom heaves in her corset. 'Ooh, they say the Winter's Claw know how to party.' She clears her throat. 'Look, I know I had my reasons but I'm sorry for hooking you up to our engines. I've made a lot of calls in my time but I'm not used to playing with the lives of good people.'

'I commend your actions with all my heart. Even if my life were forfeit, I would have begged you to stay your course.'

'By the kraken, you're every girl's dream.'

'I know plenty who'd say otherwise but thank you.'

'They're lying. Trust me.' Sarah takes his arm. 'Serious talk, I don't claim to know what's going on with the Freljord. I know Ashe is an awful tart, and you don't see eye to eye, but… she's bad in a good way. Keep her about, if you can.'

'You underestimate her. She's a danger to many people, especially Sejuani.'

Sarah doesn't budge. 'I want to see all of you when I visit.'

'You're asking the wrong person.' He cradles the strongbox. 'Only one of us can truly pass judgement on Ashe.'

'You think? I'd say there's one other.' Sarah's eyes follow Quinn along the pier. She cuts a lonely figure, hands in front of her low neckline while passers-by glance in disapproval. This is a real test for her.

Volibear drums his claws. 'Hmm… you may have a point.' He nods in farewell. 'Good hunting. If I don't pay my debt in this life, Captain Fortune, I will do so in the next.' He shuffles down the ramp.

It's just me and Sarah now. She says, flatly, 'Hey, girlfriend.'

'Interfering again?' I say. 'You're as bad as I am.'

'Show some gratitude. You need somebody on your side who's not fucking you.'

'My husband already fills that role.'

'So you both do whatever, huh? Do you have a similar arrangement with your crazy barbarian princess?'

'You could say that.'

Sarah looks unconvinced. 'So you're in trouble?'

'Not for the reason you think.'

'I won't ask.' She sighs. 'Your life is a mess. I'd sooner have my problems. At least I can shoot most of them.'

'I don't know. I couldn't bear the pain of losing my…'

'That's enough!' She checks our surroundings. 'I totally regret saying anything. Should've known you'd get all broody.'

'You should look her up.'

'I shouldn't.' She fidgets under my gaze. 'What are you perving at?'

'You should look her up.'

Sarah curses my persistence. 'Fine, but I have two conditions. I won't put out any feelers until Bilgewater's under my heel, and you're providing a home if it all goes wrong.'

'I'm sure there are better destinations.'

'Well that sounds like your problem, bitch.'

'I guess it is.' The time has come. I should take my leave as Queen of the Freljord. Instead, I hold onto my freedom as long as I can. 'I'll miss you, Sarah.'

She looks down with contempt at my open arms, but relents and embraces me. She's plucked soft and smells of rose water. Just as I'm falling asleep in her feminine cocoon, she surprises me with a kiss. 'Look after yourself, Ashe. I don't have many friends.'

'You said it.' She blows a curl out of her face in mock annoyance. 'We have to do this again sometime.'

'Definitely. You fancy a trip to Piltover?'

'Yes, I'd love to bring some of their technology back home.'

'Eh, the tech's good, but the people are dull as dishwater. Their black market is a man selling tax-free cigarettes in a bar. I get most of my gear from Zaun.' She waves off her tangent. 'I'm going because the Sherriff's marrying her woman… or her woman's marrying her, not sure who proposed… and I got a plus one. Can't think of anyone I'd rather take.'

My heart skips a beat. 'Women can marry there?'

'Caitlyn has money and power so she can do what she likes but… yes, apparently.' The possibilities are whooshing through my head. I'm already planning little ceremonies and outfits. 'Damn, girl, you're picking out your bridal gown already.'

'How did you...?'

She winks. 'Women's intuition.' What am I then? 'Ah, I think you and Cait would get along like a ship on fire. She's another gilded slut with a long stick up her fat ass. Massive tits as well, but you seem to like them small.'

'It's all about the person. While we're on the subject, I doubt even a fairy-tale wedding is worth your company.'

'Aw…'

'Joking aside, I'd love to go but…'

'Responsibilities, hey? Just remember the offer's there if a miracle happens.'

'I will. If it doesn't, you could always take Quinn.'

Sarah beams. 'Can you imagine? She'd be bawling her eyes out, running to catch the bouquet, fainting with happiness. You reckon she'd show up in a suit or a dress?'

'Either would work.'

'Oh, come on. You've got to have a preference.'

'Can she be naked?'

'You filthy mare, get off my ship.'

I depart _The Syren_ with a spring in my step. A gentle sorrow, not unwelcome, touches my heart. Sarah and I probably won't meet for many years, but ours is a good parting, free of injustice and regret.

As I descend onto the pier, my legs feel stiff and wobbly. Two men await us. One is the ever-inscrutable Xin Zhao. The other is a lithe, dark-skinned man with a chiselled frown. He carries twin guns of obscure design.

Before any of us can exchange pleasantries, the newcomer says, 'You're alive. Did you find your lost soul?'

I keep silent. I've no idea who this man is. Quinn looks to Xin Zhao for guidance. When he doesn't oblige, she ventures, 'I think so, Lucian, but we nearly paid in kind.'

'I would pay anything to free Senna.' He turns with a flick of his heavy linen coat. How is he not melting? 'Thank you, my lady.' He departs.

With maddening serenity, Xin Zhao says, 'Why did you tell him?'

Quinn flushes. 'He deserved to know. If it were _my_ wife in chains, I'd…' We're back in Demacia now. She has to mind her reputation. 'We know how determined Lucian is. If we hadn't told him, he might have interrogated Sa… Captain Fortune or struck a deal with Lux. He discovered our mission by himself. Isn't it safer to keep him as a friend if we can't hide anything?'

'I'm sure Lucian will remember your co-operation.'

'I wasn't manipulating him for my benefit!'

'Regardless, you've earnt his goodwill.' Xin Zhao lowers his voice, pronouncing each word with the laboured accuracy of an immigrant. 'I must warn you, as one low-born outsider to another. Be careful. I respect your boldness, and agree with your call, but referring Lucian to Prince Jarvan would have been protocol. Even if you act with wisdom, you risk looking like an upstart for acting alone.'

I'm getting angry with him. 'Don't you think that bird's already flown?'

'Quinn has to start assessing risks rather than simply taking them. Soon, she may be gambling with lives other than her own.'

Volibear steps in. 'Are you threatening us?'

'No, you are to be our guests until Quinn has delivered her report.' So Jarvan is taking us prisoner while he debriefs Quinn. I don't blame him. Anything could have happened to us out there.

Volibear clutches the egg a little closer. 'Fine, but Sejuani's soul is ours. Keep your non-existent mages at arm's length.'

'We will. The less our "non-existent mages" have to do with that vessel, the better.'


	18. Chapter 18

The Demacians were hospitable this time around. Volibear got a room rather than a cage. My chamber feels unsettlingly cool with its white sheets and white walls. Everything is lavish but itchy. The sterile air tickles my lungs.

At least I have wine, a familiar Cabernet. Quinn had gifted me the same before we first made love. I hope its appearance isn't a romantic gesture on her part. I drink one small glass to settle my nerves and leave the bottle out of sight. I need my wits about me.

I sleep one restless night. Xin Zhao cheerfully serves breakfast and supper. Nobody changes the sheets, which is a mercy. I prefer grime to starch.

I've little to do but read and exercise. Luckily, my hosts have provided enough books. I plough through tedious propaganda for stray morsels of knowledge. One of the books is an epic romance about fair knights and fair maidens. To my surprise, there's even sex, even if the details are hidden by metaphor and antiquated language. Is this one of the stories Quinn grew up on? She probably got off to this a few times. Unfortunately, this environment shrivels my libido. No fun for me.

Late afternoon, as the sky grows dark outside my window, somebody knocks. When I don't hear Xin Zhao's call, I draw my dagger. Hidden threats roam every country.

'Queen Ashe?' I know that voice. Jarvan's come in person. 'Are you decent?'

I hunt for the wine bottle and pour myself another glass. 'Well, I'm dressed.' I need something to hold. Otherwise, my hands will give too much away.

Jarvan enters, wearing a simple indigo tunic and loose britches. Without his armour, he could be an off-duty nightwatchman. Doesn't he have a hairdresser? By all accounts, he's a dynamic fighter but he looks malnourished. He surveys the room, as if expecting an ambush. 'Do you mind if I sit?' I hear no warmth in his etiquette.

'Of course not.'

I suck my teeth as he drags a chair to face mine. His limbs fold into the low, narrow seat. Finally, he says, 'I've spoken with Quinn.'

'She's not a liar.'

'No, but she's withholding something.'

'We all have our secrets.' He doesn't respond. 'What has she told you?'

'Quinn offered her soul in exchange for Sejuani's. The deal collapsed when Valor asserted a prior claim. Apparently, the bird is an avatar for something.'

I take a swig of wine. 'She's been chosen, while we languish in her shadow.'

'Perhaps. We can't assume Valor's intent.' I smell a job for Lux. 'Moving on, Volibear defeated Kalista with the help of Karthus, another wrinkle in our tale. The Deathsinger is hardly known for his beneficence, yet he favours you.'

'Not a pleasant thought.'

'You should watch your tread. Few people survive his attention for long. Your people may be at risk.'

'What are you implying? I have no control over what he does.' My glass is already half-empty. 'Granted, I've many vices but necromancy isn't one of them.'

'We know. Luxanna swept your palace.' You smug bastard, I swear I'm going to throttle that girl. 'After Kalista fell, Captain Fortune used Volibear's regeneration to fuel your escape. He made a full recovery and upheld her decision.'

'You've spoken to him.'

'We were impressed with his character. No doubt, we would be cursing his name had we merged our forces.'

'You must be so grateful that I slept with Quinn.'

Jarvan doesn't bite. 'Volibear confirmed one detail. Your tribes are bitterly opposed, regardless of your entente with Sejuani.'

'My proposal to you was in good faith. I _told_ you that she was intransigent, and her people doubly so. They left me no choice.'

'Lest we forget, you had given us cause to suspect your narrative.'

'How? I dwell on my faults as much as anyone but I could be the worst human being and it would not…' I feel sick. 'It would not change...' With one frantic gulp, I finish my drink. _All is vanity. Nothing you are matters._ The phrases churn within my stomach. I don't know whether I believe them, but I can't swallow them.

'I think you've drank enough, Ashe. Pass me the bottle.'

I blink. How did it get into my hand? 'Is that an order?'

'No, but Quinn wouldn't forgive me for letting you do this.'

Avarosa, he's a manipulative swine. 'Oh, she gets me drunk when it suits her. Believe me.' I nearly throw the bottle at his head.

He doesn't comment, either unwilling or unable to defend Quinn's honour. 'You resumed your… dalliance with the understanding it was temporary.'

'Dalliance is too small a word, and I'll always be fond of Quinn.' I submerge my hostility in kinder memories. 'But you're superficially correct.'

Fury colours Jarvan's neck. 'You claim to be fond of her? Then why let Quinn squander her virtue? She has little else to her name!'

'If your country dealt her a poor hand, shouldn't _you_ right the balance?'

'My power is not absolute. I have to consider my father, hostile nobles and salacious rumours when I put forth her case. You've injured her prospects, immeasurably. How can I prepare Quinn for public life when tales of debauchery shadow her?'

'They will come regardless, and she would have strayed, sooner or later. Perhaps I was just convenient.' I feel as if I'm digesting a stone.

'You had age and authority over her. Don't think you can drop your charge so readily.'

'My behaviour was irresponsible, and Quinn is her own woman with her own drives. Both of these things are true.' The conclusion brings me no joy. Where can you go from it?

'She was born to lead, not follow.' Jarvan clasps his hands before his chin. 'But there is one drive which eludes me.'

'You've spoken to her. Did you not like her answer?'

'No, something's missing. I had my suspicions and Volibear confirmed them, but I fear only you can reveal the thread.'

'How unfortunate.'

Is he smiling? 'You're naïve to assume you're the worst person I must indulge.' He continues. 'When Kalista laid out her terms, Quinn offered herself in place of you or Volibear.'

'She did. Volibear and I were too busy arguing. We should have paid more attention.'

'Yes, if Quinn's plan had worked, she would have been lost forever.'

'Bound to vengeance, never to know love or rest, a fate worse than oblivion.'

Jarvan lets the gravity of Quinn's choice echo through the silence. 'Why would she choose it?'

'What reason did she give?'

He says with no twist of sarcasm. 'Her sacrifice would bring peace to the north and our countries would usher in a new golden age.'

I wonder if Quinn left out the "two women ruling as a beacon of hope" angle or if Jarvan's too scornful to mention it. 'I long for that as much as anyone but I may not fulfil her promise. There are too many bridges to cross.'

'Did you tell Quinn otherwise?'

'No, but even if I tried to mislead her, Volibear's opposition is all too plain.'

'Which leaves two possibilities. Either Quinn was blinded by her own zeal…' His voice wavers. 'Or she was taking her own life.'

'Yes.'

Jarvan stares at the floor. He wants to blame me for this. Publicly, he may still do. 'Why?'

'She saw no future where she could be herself.'

'Quinn told me that all she wanted was to serve Demacia. I expect everyone to have private lives, but I sincerely thought her duty was reason enough to live.'

'I don't think you were wrong. She likely found service a welcome distraction from her loneliness… until she met me.'

'Are you claiming responsibility for this?'

'Not in the way you think. She's a little obsessed with me but… I think it will pass.' My eyes grow warm. 'If anything, I'll be the one dreaming of her.'

Jarvan betrays no sympathy. 'So how did you change her path? Did you raise her expectations?'

'Do you think she'd aspire to my furtive existence? I'm a cautionary tale if anything.' It's time to put Sejuani's theory to the test. 'What _should_ Quinn expect? What are your intentions towards her?'

Jarvan glances towards the door. He lowers his voice. 'I guess there's no point hiding it. You're a perceptive woman. For once, you live up to your reputation.'

'Thank you but someone else worked it out. I might introduce you, one day.'

'So long as you didn't hear it from Luxanna… but yes, Quinn was marked as a potential bride. The reasons were manifold. I'm sure you don't need to hear them.'

'I guess learning that she preferred women was devastating.'

'It was.'

I'm surprised by his blunt answer. 'Do you love her?'

Jarvan stammers, just a little. 'We have different expectations of that word, Ashe. I love Demacia, and I would love her queen.'

For the first time, I feel sorry for him. 'Well, Quinn's easy to love. You can be sure of that.'

'I'll be generous and assume you're not slighting her virtue.'

My pity vanishes. 'Thank you, but remember virtue is cheap when all your needs are met.'

'We could snipe all day but it would achieve nothing.' Fine, don't admit I have a point. 'So you told Quinn your suspicions?'

'I did, but I presented your marriage as an opportunity, not a threat. I emphasised what good she might achieve, but it was a mistake. I pushed her over the edge.'

'I see.' Jarvan studies his hand, as though contemplating an absent ring. 'To know that she would sooner face death than… it is a humbling thought. I would not require love, or even friendship, so long as she could lead our people and supply an heir. That would be all.'

'Do you still consider her a potential queen?'

'Certainly. She's willing to die for a better world, and her loyalties are now plain.'

I'm surprised enough that I have to press Jarvan on the subject. 'You're not worried about them?'

'Every knight answers to more than one call. Many would put their children before their country, despite their vows.' I hear a trace of bitterness. 'Quinn would also defy me to voice the concerns of the peasantry, but if they're not represented, we risk losing them to darker forces.'

'You seek a loyal opposition to consolidate your power.'

'Correct. I don't retain lickspittles. Quinn, Luxanna, Garen, Shyvana, and even Xin Zhao have all raised their voices to me. So long as it's behind closed doors and in good faith, I welcome it. Other perspectives might save me from defeat or damnation.'

If only Sejuani, Volibear and I could survive that process. 'What happens now? Quinn deserves to know your intent.'

'I'll tell Quinn, so long as Demacia has need of heroes, I'll have need of her. She may serve in whatever capacity she chooses.'

I nearly hug him in gratitude, but Quinn deserves more than the bare minimum. 'What if she chooses to start a family with another woman?'

'Ashe, if you can't impose acceptance on a country that you're essentially founding, what am I to do? Perhaps I'd entertain your criticism if you'd sought Quinn as a wife but you've been entirely selfish.'

I catch my breath. Does that mean Jarvan would have let Quinn go to be my…? No, I must forget that possibility. 'This goes beyond my failings. You'll risk losing her again if she can't dream.'

Jarvan grapples with my warning. 'Once, we lost a promising leader to similar passions. Taric found redemption without us but, after Quinn's escape, I suspect the fates will not allow us a third lapse.' He tents his fingers. 'I can promise little, Ashe. Until mores change, the best I can do is turn a blind eye to her activities. Perversely, hiding them will be simple if we marry. Then we can retain her companions as bodyguards or ladies-in-waiting. Also, if she…' Jarvan grimaces. 'Entertains women, we can be sure any offspring are of my blood.'

I push him. 'Living in secret won't end well.'

'Here, they'll burn her as a witch. I can't openly defend her. Politics aside, I'm uncomfortable with her deviance.' I scowl. 'And it will show. Quinn deserves a better advocate. I'll do what I can but if it isn't enough by your measure then I must fall short.'

'As long as you don't abandon her, she'll change your mind about us.'

'I can believe that.' He thaws a little. 'After all, your misguided affair saved lives. Instead of conquest, we've aided collaboration. It is a small and fragile gain, but with enough progress, you might achieve your goal of a united Freljord.'

'I tell myself that. Unfortunately, Volibear was not impressed with me, and he may be the true crux of our nation.'

'Volibear may not like you, but he co-operates regardless. He could have told us anything this morning and we'd have taken his word over yours. Whatever your sins, you've earnt loyalty without friendship. That is a powerful thing, Ashe, and it may carry you farther than his affections ever will.'

Quinn and Volibear must have held their tongues about the depth of my entanglement with Sejuani. Jarvan doesn't appreciate Volibear is bound against his will. 'Believe me. His discretion is a bad omen. I fear he's disengaging.'

'You know him better than I do.'

The conversation lulls. I think this is a natural ending. 'So... can we part on good terms? I don't expect your country's aid anymore, but I hope we can begin again, one day.'

'The past remains,' Jarvan says. 'You've insulted Demacia by concealing your nature, blackmailing us and seducing a potential queen, but you shone a light into some dark places and I've learnt enough that I won't seek restitution.'

'Thank you. That is remarkably generous.'

'To be frank, I have no choice. Your tribe is the bulwark, Ashe. Weakening you would only imperil Demacia.' He must also want to stay in Quinn's good books. 'Resolve your feud with the Winter's Claw then we'll discuss the Watchers. Until then we'll keep our distance.'

'That's fair. Look after Quinn for me.'

'I will. To that end, we'll keep you separate.'

'Oh… I would have liked a chance to say goodbye.'

'Your love was an earthquake, and we're still feeling its echoes. Once they disperse, the two of you may salvage what you can.'

I protest. 'Assuming we're both still alive. You don't appreciate how scarce our chances are.'

'Maybe not,' he says. 'But I can't afford any further disruption.'

'You'll excuse me if I don't thank you for this… but I _will_ thank you for using the word "love" instead of "deviance". It's a bigger step forward than you know.'

Something flickers in Jarvan's gaze. 'It is… impossible to hear Quinn speak of you and use any other.'

I'm stunned 'She…' My body convulses. I'm sobbing loudly. 'She has to forget me. This has to end, even if it hurts.' Endings always hurt, even… _especially_ for stories that should never be.

Jarvan has nothing. I've tested the limits of his empathy. Words of comfort are difficult for the man, but impossible for the prince. 'We'll organise your departure for the Freljord. Weep while you can. Your people need you strong.'

'Look after Quinn,' I blubber.

He closes the door behind him.


	19. Chapter 19

The humidity crushes my will. My pack is already chafing. Volibear stews nearby, actively ignoring me.

I risk an opening. 'I'll be glad when we're home.'

'What is home, Ashe? Your Freljord is a myth and I've betrayed everyone except you.' He turns away, finishing our conversation.

We're cooking on a stony hillock, opposite a goods entrance to the Citadel of Dawn. Xin Zhao had led us outside and rattled away with a curt, if pleasant, farewell. Apparently, there's an escort on its way but why Jarvan's left us without supervision is anyone's guess. It feels eerie, like we're being offered enough rope to hang ourselves. Maybe he's giving us a chance to bolt so he needn't waste anyone's time.

Just as I'm running out of patience, a familiar screech turns my head. Am I hearing things? Am I that lovesick?

Apparently not. Volibear says, 'What is Jarvan playing at?'

Valor circles above. A woman calls out, 'Oh, His Majesty's only responsible for half of this.'

Even after all this time, I struggle to recognise Quinn's voice. That ordinary cadence, too shy to boast an accent, could furnish any commoner's lips, which has always been part of Quinn's charm.

Her red hair is cut short and high. She's exchanged her bodice for a leather crop top, lined with white fur. Below, her taut abdomen glistens. After trying on Sarah's come-hither swish, Quinn's embraced her own primal, androgynous allure.

Quinn laughs. 'Come on. Tell me what you think. I'm dying here.'

Volibear answers while I gawk in open lust. 'You look like a true warrior of the Freljord.'

'Thank you. Perhaps I took inspiration from the loveliest woman I know.' She winks.

I say, 'Quinn, you're magnificent! I can't look away! My knees are trembling.'

'Are you saying I should haul you back?' She looks wistful. 'Sorry, Volibear, I didn't come to steal Ashe.' He grunts. 'I'd love nothing more than to escort you but only Valor has that privilege.' She watches him with equal parts envy and affection. 'Jarvan's little indulgence.'

'Maybe that's for the… Wait, you called him "Jarvan"?'

'I did?' She scratches her nose. 'Yeah, we spoke at length. I don't think I'd ever seen him so vulnerable. He… you know, don't you? He spoke to you first.'

I don't want to hear this. 'Did he ask you to marry him?'

'Sort of?' We can't look at each other. 'He laid it on thick, said I was chosen by providence, that I bore the heart and soul of a queen.'

'You do.'

'Please don't say that! I don't want to believe it and you convinced me I was attractive.' She touches her waist. 'You're dangerous.'

I don't return her smile. 'I am.'

'We both are. Jarvan said it was a virtue, that I'd force his hand if needed.'

'You don't sound convinced.'

'Eh… I don't have that much faith in my judgement, only my taste in women.'

Volibear speaks up. 'Faith can wax or wane, provided you fight when called.'

Resolve lights up Quinn's face. 'I think I can do that.'

'As do I,' says Volibear.

My mouth is dry as I force the question. 'Did you accept?'

'Erm…' Quinn shuffles. 'Well, I'm under no pressure. Jarvan insisted I could serve as a knight instead, and regardless of what I choose, I have…' She can barely speak through her grin. 'Permission to keep a lover.'

The dawn rises on Demacia. 'That is wonderful!'

'Yeah, the only drawback is that Lux has to vet them first.'

'Oh, that's awkward.' Lux had tried to position herself as a gatekeeper to Quinn's happiness. Now it's official.

Quinn sighs. 'You're telling me. Hopefully she'll grow bored of the job, like everything.'

After a short pause, I ask, a little firmer than intended, 'Are you going to accept?'

'I… don't know.' She knows the wrong answer might hurt me. 'Nothing seems real but I took your advice and thought about what _I'd_ want. I proposed a few changes and, amazingly, Jarvan listened.'

'You sound surprised.'

'Oh, he's not ignorant. He pays attention to everyone. I just didn't expect him to suffer any demands. After all, he's offered me the greatest honour he can bestow, and I looked it right in the mouth. It's hard not to feel ungrateful.'

'Don't feel ungrateful. He's proposing an alliance from which he stands to gain.'

She waggles her eyebrows. 'Well, you'll be glad to know I dug in my heels and lectured him for over an hour.'

'That's wonderful!'

'Aren't I? He served abroad with the military and had little exposure to peasant life. Maybe I'm kidding myself, but he seemed appreciative. He did warn me that progress would be slow as erm… "decrees are dangerous".'

'He'll have nobles and merchants who'll make his life difficult if he acts without them.' For now, all I have to worry about is Tryndamere, who gladly follows my lead. I should count my blessings more often.

'I'd rather he took us labourers into account.' She folds her arms. 'You know? The people who built Demacia? That was one thing. Also, I… heavens above, I can't believe I said this.'

'Go on?'

'I told him if I have to provide an heir, we have to make sure I can do so before marriage. I don't want to go through the ceremony to let everyone down.'

Against my will, I picture her on top, ordering Jarvan about. 'Oh my, how did that go down?'

'About as well as you'd think. He was totally scandalised, red as a beetroot! After that, I had an easy time calling him "Jarvan".'

So he's a virgin? I thought all noble men were hypocrites about sex. I'm unsure if I have more or less respect for him. 'I'll remember that when we have to negotiate again. Did he…?'

'No. He grumbled about fulfilling his duty then changed the subject. I'm waiting for his answer. He has to decide whether I'm worth his honour before I consider his proposal. The pressure's on him as much as me. Thank you, Ashe. I owe that one to you.'

'Not at all, Quinn. Your strength is your own.'

Volibear comes between us. Without a word, he directs Quinn's gaze to his own. Lightning crackles. I feel my hair lift as the charge intensifies. A flash turns Volibear's head, like a slap from a yeti. He blinks as the air clears. 'You are powerful, Quinn. Your trials have tempered your soul.'

She says, 'I don't fully understand what you're seeing but I feel stronger.'

'They nearly destroyed you but you've risen like a phoenix.' He looks at Sejuani's vessel. 'I have one question. Is your life better for meeting Ashe?'

Quinn glitters. 'I now have a future, not as a quiet servant but as _me_. And regardless of what happens, I have wonderful memories to hold at night.' A blush colours her neck. 'So yes, my life is better.'

'That is all.' He kneels and takes Quinn's hand. 'You risked all for my beloved. Your courage exceeds that of our greatest warriors. The Winter's Claw and Ursine would accept you with open arms.'

'You don't think Sejuani would skewer me like a pig?'

'Oh no, she loves pigs.' A brief chuckle softens Volibear's decorum. 'I can't say how she'd react, frostily perhaps. I still believe an exchange would enlighten you both.'

'After spending so much time with you and Ashe, I've lost all sight of her. Rumours painted a scary picture. Now, she's become a blur.'

I say, 'That is closer to the truth. I don't think of her as one Sejuani. She's a broken web of dissimilar, gorgeous patterns. I can reach out and sometimes draw them together but I'm unsure if they truly belong.'

Volibear nods in agreement. 'Sejuani is a storm unto herself.'

Quinn rubs the back of her head. It must feel fuzzy where the hair's been shaved. 'I'm even more confused. I'll meet her one day, if only to apologise for sleeping with her woman, but I'll give her space for now. Demacia will thank me for letting her wounds heal. A war with one country is bad enough.'

'Don't wait forever,' says Volibear. 'Human lives are brief and Sejuani will wish to express her gratitude, even if it pains her.'

Quinn says with innocent curiosity, '"Human" lives? Do you live that much longer than us?'

'We are harder to kill,' says Volibear. His grey fur shimmers like a veil. Anivia described the Ursine as having "no thread". We have conflicting reports on their society, numbers and life expectancies. Nobody seems to know Volibear's age. His regeneration only deepens that mystery.

'I can believe that,' says Quinn. 'I'm sorry that I wasn't open with you from the start.'

'Ashe leads everyone astray. The fault lies with her but thank you nonetheless.'

Quinn pleads with upturned eyes. 'Do you think you'll ever get on?'

Volibear hesitates. 'I'd rather not disappoint you.'

'She let me be human. It almost killed me, but I wouldn't lose that for the world. And she could let others be human, even your Sejuani.' Volibear flinches. I can't say if Quinn's overstepped her bounds, or delivered a revelation. 'Yes, I know first-hand what draws people to Ashe.'

Volibear's hind claws dig into the soil. 'The desire to fall as much as live.'

'Maybe… to fall is to be human?'

'I doubt it,' he says, the hint of a smile tempering his answer, 'But I am not human.'

'Either way, I know you'll be just.' She turns to me. 'What else is there to say, my queen?'

'I may be calling you that soon.'

'Don't.' She closes the distance. 'You were my first love, and if you prove my last, I'll consider my life well-lived.'

'You have everything ahead of you, my lynx.'

'You'll be a tough act to follow.' Words fail us until she crushes me in a strong embrace. I lay my head upon her soft, fluffy pauldron and run my hands up her back. She smells clean for once and I'm staining her with my tears. 'Look after yourself. You may feel the world is on your shoulders but we'll be fine. I'll be fine.'

'Part of me doesn't want you to be fine.'

She giggles. 'I know. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be crying myself to sleep all week.'

'Only a week?'

'Is a month enough?' She strokes my hair. 'What about forever?' she whispers.

'No!' My snuffles grow louder. 'Not forever, that would make me sad.'

'All right.' She kisses my cheek. 'I have one condition.'

'What?'

'If you lose everything…' She draws back and seizes my head, forcing me to look into her golden eyes. 'Run away. Come to Demacia.'

My defiance returns. 'Quinn, I can't abandon my people!'

'I know. The shame of desertion would kill me too, so I can't ask you to run as a favour, but…'

'You can ask it as payment for rescuing Sejuani?'

She nods. Whichever I choose, I'm a villain. Do I scorn Quinn's heroic sacrifice or leave my people in their final hour? Volibear says, 'Ashe, we've been here before.'

'How so?'

'Recall, you gave me a choice. Abandon my cub or cross enemy lines. I chose the latter.'

'Yes, now you get to watch me squirm,' I say. Volibear doesn't express any pleasure at my discomfort. 'Why did you follow me?'

'I knew my sleuth would endure my absence but I couldn't endure without Sejuani.'

'I see… then I should leave you in peace, Quinn. You'll soar higher without my cloud in your sky.'

She laughs. 'Just like you to hear the wrong lesson. I'll be fine, I'm sure. This is about you.' She runs a hand through my hair. 'Maybe you'll face defeat in love and war but you still deserve a life. Others will fight your cause if it is just. Heroes will rise, and you can rest with your regrets, your failures… and with me.'

Volibear says with grim humour. 'Should you fail, skalds will sing of "Queen Ashe, the coward", rather than "Queen Ashe, the martyr". That seems like an apt legacy.'

'Maybe it is.' The sun breaks through and shines everywhere but me. 'Then someone better could unite the Freljord. Who knows? Maybe the tribes will do it without a leader. My debt would have more bearing than my reputation.'

Quinn says, 'And I would help you find peace.'

'If anyone could, it would be you.' I close my eyes and breathe my promise. 'Quinn, if I lose everything, I will try to live.'

'And I will do the same.' She kisses me with the slow rhythm of waves lapping against a quiet shore. My feet leave the ground. For a moment I'm weightless, untangled from everything except one woman's love and care.

For the first time in years, I feel young. A quaking void yawns within, waiting to be filled with experience. I'm scared. I had never imagined a life apart from destiny. My vision clears. Below the twin peaks of triumph and failure stretches an eternal marsh. I can descend and walk through the lilies and reeds. I can touch infinity.

Quinn lets go, her voice ragged with emotion. 'I should leave now, before Jarvan finds out. I'm supposed to be with Lux in case I'm infested with dark magic or something.'

I jump on the chance to lighten our farewell. 'So you're trapped in a room with her? She must love that.'

'She does.' Quinn rolls her eyes. 'But I shouldn't complain. She let me come and see you.'

'Aw, she's not all bad. You'll have to give her my thanks.' I shrug off my backpack and rummage for her gift. 'Along with this.'

'Oh no, you didn't!' I produce the grey rose from Karthus' garden, crushed flat but as defiant as the lich himself. 'I told you not to pick any flowers!'

'I'm a naughty girl.' I press the rose to her breastbone. 'Take it. You can find your own happiness.'

'With Lux? Are you mad?'

'With or without, she'll make a strong ally.' Quinn stubbornly balls her fist as my free hand skates down her arm. 'Besides, if you consider her dangerous, you should keep her close.'

'By tangling myself up in her schemes?'

'Or her body. There's a lot of power to be gained from both, and you'll need every advantage.' I tug at her wrist, guiding her hand to the flower. 'Lux is brilliant enough that Runeterra may fall to her, and she's opened up to you. For the sake of Demacia, leap on this chance.'

Quinn screws up her eyes. 'I can't make a decision now but… answer one question for me. Forget all the politics. What do you think of Lux as a person?'

'I'm jealous of her youth, intelligence and audacity but I think she's lonely.'

'She gets around enough.' Quinn pouts. 'Any pretty boys who stumble into Demacia, stumble into her bed.'

'I was promiscuous when I was younger but I made few connections. With every girl, I affirmed our shared humanity then cast it aside until you broke the cycle.'

'You're just saying…'

'No, you're that special. Without you, I might have languished in denial forever. Lux recognises that. I suspect she plays games because everyone else does, and she's righteous enough to see through them. Help her to throw light on the world and you may be her salvation, as you were mine.'

We're almost there. Quinn touches the rose. 'I don't think she's evil but living in secret has jaded her. She'll get worse if she's left alone.'

'Yes.'

With a loud whistle, Quinn summons Valor. He thrusts his large head between us, ruining our moment. 'Val, could you take this rose for me? Keep it safe until I ask for it back.'

He takes the flower as though judging its edibility. I feel anxious. 'Will he be careful?'

Valor scolds me with a narrow look, while Quinn strokes his neck. 'Yeah, I trust him as much as anybody. He may goof around but he always comes through.' Valor clicks his tongue at me then flies away. 'So this is goodbye then?'

'I think so.'

'Give the Freljord my love. We'll meet again, I'm sure, but until then, be happy… and…' she hiccups. A tear rolls down her face. 'Please don't forget me.'

'Death itself couldn't rip your name from my heart, Sir Quinn.'

'Or yours from mine. Farewell, Ashe, my northern star.'

* * *

As we depart, I walk backwards, returning Quinn's wave. My foot hits a rock and I nearly fall. I see Quinn laugh kindly as I regain my balance. I can't walk backwards forever. Giving up, I finally turn.

Grief courses through me, noisy and undignified. I mew like a housecat as my chest spasms. When we reach the crest of the hill, I'm doubled over in pain. I give one last wave to Quinn, who's little more than a flame-haired speck, then I cut the cord and vanish over the horizon.

I'm sorry, Sejuani. I wish I could see you and you alone. I wish I didn't love every desirable woman who showed me kindness… or weakness. I wish you could accept your jealousy. I wish your toxic upbringing didn't insist I fulfil some "alpha female" role and fuck everything in sight, including your boundaries.

I wish my lust were as foul and untroubled as that ideal. I wish I weren't weeping over Quinn, dousing your desire with my snot. I wish it weren't inevitable that, one day, I'll say her name in your bed.

I wish I were more than Ashe and less than your goddess.

I wish I were dead.

No, I want more than death. I wish I were nothing.

I could walk into the plains. I could fade, leave no trace.

A claw brushes my shoulder. 'Keep walking.'

I hear no comfort or threat, a simple directive. I look up at Volibear. He gazes ahead, as always.

'Love is a verb, Ashe.' The words repeat as though confirmed by the wind. 'Love is a verb. Your passions will change with the storm. Bolts of ardour will scar your landscape. So long as you feed your cubs, listen to their fears, and _walk_ with them through the shadows, you _love_. Your actions, not your feelings, reveal the depths of your care. Don't fade away. Keep walking.'

'Was I thinking out loud?'

'Perhaps. I sometimes forget where my hearing ends and my visions begin.'

'Oh…' Should I feel embarrassed? As I become aware, logical thoughts rise through my self-hatred. 'I wouldn't be here without my feelings. Your guidance is practical but…'

'You don't have to believe it. All you have to do is keep… on… walking.' Volibear sounds as though he's crawling across an ocean bed. 'Away from Quinn, away from temptation, back…' He swallows the word "home".

'Don't say it.' I look at my feet. 'I don't want your acceptance, or Sejuani's really, but I'll see this through to the end.'

'There is no end, Ashe. The road is our final destination,' he says. 'For too long, I prayed otherwise. I watched and listened for the means to banish you from Sejuani's life, or a reason to step aside and allow her the risk of loving you.'

'How did you not reach a verdict? I've disgraced everyone.'

'You have.' The confirmation drops like an axe. 'You're impulsive, craven, dishonest, self-absorbed, arrogant, irresponsible, manipulative and senseless… and a better person would have lost one of us to Kalista. Because you were foolish enough to lay Quinn, we triumphed without loss. I can't ignore that. You fought an ugly campaign and won. You damned yourself while I… fretted over breaking a nail.' He recalls his words at the start of our journey.

'Destiny might have intervened regardless.' I don't want him to justify my behaviour. Who else will protect Sejuani when she does the same?

'There is no destiny. Time isn't an arrow but a…' Volibear pauses. 'Time isn't an arrow.' He slows to a stop.

Anticipation grows. Where is this going? 'Volibear?'

He peers at me. 'Do you believe in your claim? Are you the descendant of Queen Avarosa?'

'There's no proof. Our genealogy goes back less than a century, but I can feel her watching over me. Her statues and cities were my home when I was young and lost. She gave me her bow and arrows. The Freljordian winter soothes me like a hearth. I guess my blood is little more than water but I _feel_ Iceborn.'

'I believe you,' he says, 'But we're missing something.'

'What?'

'Avarosa led through harmony while you sow chaos wherever you may roam. You tear people inside-out.' Volibear's deposition batters me like a hailstorm. 'Sejuani fought every moment of her life only to seek loss at your hand. I shed my fur to become an overprotective parent. With a marriage of convenience, you domesticated a vessel of undying rage. Karthus, the death-worshipper, struck a blow for the living. Vengeance broke upon our shield. Finally, Quinn chose to risk her life _then_ her soul rather than serve Demacia. Luckily for her, Jarvan proved subtle, which I'm laying at your feet as well.'

My head spins. 'People are complex, Volibear. Yes, my goal is to let them be more than fighters or slaves but I can't accept all credit.'

'You claim everything is your fault until someone agrees. No. This time, you're following your premise to its conclusion. I don't think these are coincidences. There are too many to dismiss. I believe you're descended from an Iceborn, Ashe… but it isn't Avarosa.'

He's wrong. I can feel her unseen arms. I know my fantasies are wild and raw but I can feel her so much! Avarosa was all I had. My birth mother was a traditional chieftain, a less complicated Sejuani, but Avarosa _knew_ me.

Trusting in a love that endured through my sins, I deny Volibear. 'No, she's here! Aren't you a shaman? Your glowing eyes must see her.' They give nothing away. 'Don't you dare claim otherwise, because I can feel Avarosa like the ground beneath my feet.'

'Avalanches claim dozens each year… but you're not wrong. She saturates everything like one of your sickly perfumes.'

'Then why question it? What's the point of this?'

'What do you think was Avarosa's biggest regret?'

'How would I know? She tells me little of herself. The stories are all we…'

'Then go by the stories.'

I could ask her but she's rarely been direct. Where should I begin? She was an Iceborn queen but a person like any of us. Go with something obvious, domestic…

Oh no.

Volibear notices my dithering. 'Say it.'

'She died without making up with her little sister. They'd fought Lissandra together but…'

'Would you linger for generations because of that?'

'Yes.'

'And what would you do?'

Maternal anguish warms my body like a fever. I call out, 'Avarosa!'

_I failed her._

'Failed Serylda? But she abandoned you!'

_She was young. She needed room to grow. But I caged her to preserve our legacy. My walls became our tomb._

'She carried on fighting while you protected others. You protected _me_. Think of all the children who found solace in your achievements, who could be themselves without fear!'

_The fear stayed with me, festered and overflowed upon my death. You've seen our graveyards. I failed all my children but especially her, my darling Serylda, the first failure from which all my pain blossomed._

'You can't accept responsibility for those marshalled against you!' My voice cracks. 'This is madness. Am I bringing ruin to the Freljord? Should I…'

_No! Never give up. You carry the spark of creation in your blood. Yes, the fear guides you but your heart rebels. You are not me. Take pride._

'So, Volibear was right? I'm not your descendant?'

_You are my child in many ways but not all of them, which is a blessing._

'What?'

_I'll speak no more. Feel my love. My regrets are merely poison._

'Avarosa, tell me!'

Her tenderness remains, draped over my shoulders like a heavy cloak. I wear so many layers, hair, skin and bone. I knew this body, once. I thought it was mine.

Volibear respects the silence until I break it. 'She didn't answer. For ten years, I persevered without evidence. Yet…'

'Your faith has been tested, as you tested mine.'

'Did it survive?'

'Barely. It hangs by a single thread.'

I wait in hope. 'Yes?'

'I saw Quinn grow strong in your fire,' he says quietly. 'Maybe Sejuani could as well.' Before I concur, his voice darkens. 'But even if she does, I can't forgive you for burning her. The conflict between those two judgements may never end. I need rest, which I never craved until you entered Sejuani's life. You sow discord at a deeper level than thought or flesh. You divide souls. Whether or not you're of Serylda's blood, you're a true scion of war.'

'So the Freljord will never know peace under my rule. Should I just… walk away?'

'No, because peace without resolution is torment. I'll not damn Sejuani to chasing your shadow. Better that she confront you.'

'Then we'll keep arguing and fighting… forever?' My vision blurs. 'These grey skies. They never clear, never grow dark or blue. Should I have expected anything else? I thought uniting our extremes, black and white, would form a beautiful rainbow, not endless, miserable _grey_.' Lifting a strange hand, I brush away my strange tears. 'I'm sorry for everything, Volibear.'

'Don't apologise. Keep walking.'

'You beautiful man, why can't I be like you?'

'Because I'm irrelevant. You still matter, for good or ill.'

' _You_ still matter. She loves you.'

'She must surpass me, as must you…' He sounds like a ghost releasing all cares before passing. 'As must you. Stop seeking my approval. Stand on your own. Keep walking.'

My boots gather dew, moss and soil. Unseen layers of pollen slow my heavy, swinging arms. Cloudy thoughts amass until my chin touches my clavicle. I beg for the chip, chip, chip of age to hollow my skull, to displace regret with bewildering fear. The void looms. I don't walk. I fall forwards. I fall forwards.

'Ashe?'

I fall.

'Ashe?'

Every mistake, another step. I'm walking. As long as I can walk, everything will be fine. You have more power than I do, my people, my love. The land rises to the setting sun.

'Ashe, wake up!'

I can do this, I think.

* * *

**THE END**


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